The Summons of the Heart
by Shy Snootles
Summary: A closer look at what happened in the von Trapp household, between the day the captain was reconciled with his children and the day of the puppet show, focusing on how Maria and Georg begin to fall in love.
1. Chapter 1

It took me 13 months to write this story, in three different chunks, 20 pages long each or so. Thank heavens, I'm the most stubborn person I know, that's how I got to finish it.

There's a lot of fluff and shameless cuteness. Nothing too dark or sad, as I tried to maintain continuity with the spirit of the film.

The story starts right after the Captain "asks" Maria to stay.

* * *

After taking a quick shower and changing her soaked clothes, Maria trotted happily down the stairs, heading for the living room. Her hair was still wet, but she was too impatient to lose a single minute drying it.

She couldn't believe the events that had transpired mere moments before. In the blink of an eye she had gone from rowing on the lake with the children to having the most heated discussion she had ever engaged in with anyone, being dismissed, and then readmitted with an awkward but heartfelt apology.

Slowing down the closer she got to the living room, she fought to curb her excitement. It would be inappropriate now in front of the Captain and his guests.

And yet, she couldn't contain the immense feeling of joy bubbling in her chest. Every single night since the Captain's absence she had prayed to find a way to reconcile the children with their father; and in a certainly convoluted way, she had done it.

Now, she only had to help the children to accept and eventually grow to love their new mother.

She had only caught a glimpse of the Baroness. She had been too preoccupied preparing mentally for the discussion that was coming to pay much attention to her, but she looked beautiful and refined. And also tactful, as her subtle disappearance from the scene had evidenced.

Taking a deep breath, she walked in, to the most lovely sight. The Captain, sitting on the settee the Baroness had occupied earlier, surrounded by his children. Marta and Gretl were leaning against their father, who had one arm wrapped around each girl. Their siblings were either standing or sitting on the floor, as close to their father as space allowed.

She stopped in her tracks, her heart filling with contentment.

Everybody's heads turned to her and the children greeted her warmly, urging her to join in the happiest moment they had known in a very, very long time.

"Ah, here you are," the Captain smiled up at her with sparkling eyes. "Allow me to introduce you, Fräulein," he said, rising to his feet, but keeping the little girls close to him. He turned to his guests. "Baroness Schraeder, Herr Detweiler, this is Fräulein Maria."

"How do you do, my dear?" the Baroness said, tipping her head courteously, the small bunch of Edelweiss still in hand. Amusement was evident behind her eyes as she contemplated her.

"How do you do, Baroness?" Maria replied politely.

Herr Detweiler walked up to her, took her hand and kissed it with a flourish.

"A pleasure, dear," he appraised her, eventually arching his eyebrows. "I do have to commend your taste, Georg," he said, turning to his friend. "It took you an indecent amount of time, but you finally found the right one."

"We were due a stroke of good luck," the Captain agreed, casting Maria a bright, grateful smile.

Maria smiled back at him, a bit dazzled. It was difficult to reconcile the man she had known before this day with the relaxed, joyful and... _smiling_ man looking at her.

"I was talking about her looks," Max clarified with a twinkle in his eyes. "Thank God, this young lady doesn't look at all like the governess you had during my last visit. I've never seen a woman with a moustache thicker than mine. And the poor thing had so many problems fitting her... bulk, onto the chairs..."

"Fräulein Gretchen, number nine," Kurt promptly supplied.

"That's right, Fräulein Gretchen," Max turned to Maria, bowing his head in acknowledgment. "Yes sir, a vast improvement."

"Thank you, sir," Maria smiled at him, getting her hand back. "I think," she added as an afterthought.

Laughter echoed through the walls of the room.

* * *

The next few hours passed in a blur. The children couldn't seem to get enough of their father. His closeness, his voice, his touch. They had been truly starved for his affection, and Georg could hardly cope with his offspring's pleas to do this or that, look here or there, hear his or her story.

Maria watched the constant communication and sensory feedback between the Captain and his children, in awe. She couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that this remarkable man had chosen to withdraw into himself after his devastating loss, instead of seeking comfort in the only ones who could understand and soothe the rawer edges of his pain.

'_Do not judge and you shall not be judged,'_ a voice resounded in her mind. Nodding to herself, Maria simply accepted what it was and set out to enjoy the beautiful view.

The evening was over before anyone noticed, and dinner was just as merry and happy-go-lucky. The childen were higher than ever, and Maria had to make a real effort persuading them to go to bed. Finally, after much insistence, she convinced them that tomorrow would be another day, and their father would still be there.

Closing the door of the nursery after her, Maria let out a long sigh. She knew it would take a long time for the children to go to sleep. Today, their dearest dream had come true, and it wasn't easy to let go. She realized that they also had many things to share with each other in private, so she let them alone for a while as they chatted away from bed to bed. She would return later to make sure they were sleeping.

She was tired. Every single day was a challenge, but today's emotional roller-coaster was beginning to take its toll.

When she was going down the stairs, she bid goodnight to the Baroness and Herr Detweiler who were also retiring. Once in the hall, she stopped and looked around, in much the same way she had done when she first arrived.

Something had changed. It was nothing that she could pinpoint, but the villa looked different, more alive than it had seemed then.

"You feel it too, don't you?" a soft, masculine voice said at her back.

She turned about with a small start. The Captain was standing in the middle of the living room, looking in her direction. The look in his eyes was one of wonder, but there was also a rough edge to it.

"Yes, I do," she simply said, venturing inside.

He looked down and began to pace, hands behind his back in typical military fashion, as seemed to be second nature to him. Maria watched him in silence. Observing him these past few hours, she had begun to notice several things about him. Gestures and mannerisms. Characteristics that spoke of a very complex personality, with lights and shadows. And also, hidden depths that spoke of a gentle soul underneath that stern façade, struggling to find itself again.

Finally, Georg stopped his pacing and faced one of the windows. He strained to look out of it through the thin lace curtains. He took a deep breath.

"It's the most sobering experience to realize that you're responsible for making the lives of eight people miserable for nearly four years. Including your own," he admitted, letting out a small sigh. His shoulders dropped a little.

Maria's features softened and she tilted her head to one side. Even though he couldn't see her, she hoped he could feel her willingness to listen, that she was someone he could trust.

"But it's even more sobering to see that in three weeks, you've come to know my children better than I do." He made a pause. "Studying them today, how they looked, what they said, and how they responded to you, I suddenly realized they're..." she felt him fighting the words he was about to say. "They're strangers to me."

Maria winced at the bitter pain and regret in those words.

"They're not strangers, sir," she hurried to try and reassure. "They..."

"I appreciate that you're trying to spare my feelings, Fräulein," his tone was self-deprecating now, "but it's not necessary. I may have been a fool in many ways, but I'm not afraid of admitting the truth, as hard as it is. I would be a complete fool if I was."

There was a short silence in which Maria's respect for her employer grew to unprecedented heights.

"As I said before, there's still time, Captain," she took one step forward. "They love you, and they're desperate to be close to you," she said passionately. "They talked about you so often these past weeks. They're very proud of you, and they miss you dearly." She shrugged and shook her head. "You only have to open up and let them in. They'll do the rest."

The conviction in her words made Georg turn around and look at her.

"Just like that?" self-contempt was written all over his face. "Can four years of emotional neglect be dismissed so easily?"

"They don't see it in terms of emotional neglect. Just in shared pain at a distance."

Something extremely painful moved behind Georg's eyes, and he looked away.

"I pray you're right, Fräulein," he said in a hoarse voice.

"From what they told me and from what I've seen today, I'm positive, sir."

His eyes quickly turned to hers, with burning intensity. Maria shrugged once more and did her best to drive her point home.

"If I got to know them in three weeks, it should be infinitely easier for you."

He smiled ironically, but also conveying his gratitude for her optimism.

"You make it look so easy."

"It *is*," she smiled back at him. "Life is often complicated, but I also think we human beings sometimes make it more complicated than it is."

Georg raised one eyebrow and turned inwards for a moment, pondering her words. He nodded, as if coming to a sort of agreement with himself. He braved her eyes.

"Will you help me?" he asked with staggering openness.

Maria's jaw dropped open. She couldn't believe the profound change that man had undergone in just a few hours.

"I-I will be honoured, sir," she replied, not knowing where her words were coming from.

"Thank you," he said, looking at her with the same shy, vulnerable look he had given her that evening in the hall.

"You're welcome," she smiled at him, a part of her reaching out and reassuring him mutely that his feelings were safe with her.

Georg nodded again and took a deep breath, pulling himself together.

"Good night, Fräulein," he said softly.

She nodded back at him.

"Good night, Captain," she bowed her head courteously and left the room.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	2. Chapter 2

The next few days passed very quickly. Days in which the von Trapp household experienced a complete transformation. Laughter, joy and music filled it again after many, too many years of silence.

Days were spent playing, singing, and above all, becoming reacquainted again with the estranged father who had been sorely missed.

The children could barely hold back the need to just _be_ with their father, and feel they still were a part of his life.

The unrestrained excitement of seven needful children could get quite overwhelming, and Maria did her best to soothe the edge of that need so that no one's feelings got hurt. She subtly arranged for the children to spend some quality time with their father separately, so they had the chance to bond with him naturally, with no witnesses, not even their own siblings. That would give father and child the opportunity to rebuild their relationship at its own pace, with no outside interferences.

It worked. One mere week later, the children played, talked and behaved around their father as if the last few years had never happened.

The big challenge now was coming up with more activities they could engage in together or in groups every single day. Maria's imagination and creativity were put to the test.

Depending on the weather, the activities took place either indoors or outdoors. If it was a clear and sunny day, everybody would go out and play tag, freeze tag, ball, steal the bacon and many other games. If it was rainy, they'd stay inside, playing with dolls, cards, reading, drawing, or doing some craftwork, like cutout, clay modelling or carving wood, something Friedrich excelled at. Of course, their studies were not forgotten.

Often, if he wasn't too occupied with the baroness and Herr Detweiler, or minding the business of the household, the Captain dropped by to see how his children were doing.

One particular rainy morning, the children and Maria were engrossed in several activities in the living room. Maria had insisted that the children were allowed to play in one of the lounges, claiming that they were more spacious. She asked for several metres of useless cloth to cover the furniture and the floor, so nothing was damaged, and the Captain granted them with one of his smiles of amusement that had become so typical of him.

Liesl and Louisa were playing cards at a table, Friedrich was carving what appeared to be a ship on wood, Kurt was charcoal drawing a landscape, and Brigitta, Marta, Gretl and Maria were clay modelling on a small table, sitting on the covered floor. Brigitta was trying to make a bowl - quite unsuccessfully - and Marta and Gretl were simply getting dirty, kneading the clay into meatball-sized shapes, and then slapping them flat. Maria wasn't trying to make anything in particular, she was just playing with the clay, enjoying the feel of it in her hands, creating random forms and then breaking them up.

"Busy?" a soft voice asked from the doorway all of a sudden.

Everybody turned their heads, and the childen broke out into joyous greetings at the sight of their father, inviting him to come in.

"What are you doing?" Georg said, his eyes sweeping around the room. He smiled at Liesl and Louisa, nodding to them to go on with their card game. He took a look at Kurt's drawing, commending his technique and ruffling his hair, and his eyes lit up on seeing Friedrich's carving. He squeezed his son's shoulder in encouragement, and turned to the little girls and their governess.

"And what are you ladies up to?" he asked, squatting down.

Marta and Gretl showed their father their just finished clay meatballs and then proceeded to smash them with the palms of their hands. Georg and Maria exchanged an amused look and shook their heads at each other, hiding their mirth.

"And what's my little artist doing?" he asked Brigitta, giving her a quick one-armed hug.

"I'm trying to make a bowl," Brigitta replied, worrying at her lower lip, very frustrated with herself. "But I can't make the base round enough."

"But darling," Georg smiled, "you can't do that with just your hands. You need a pattern."

"A pattern?" Brigitta blinked up at her father in confusion.

"Yes, a round shape you can cut around." He looked up and searched the room. "Let's see..." he saw a small vase on a little table in the corner of the room, and stood up. "This will do." He went for it and brought it back. "Press down on the clay, and you'll get a perfect round base."

"Oh, thank you, Father!" Brigitta's eyes shone with delight.

Georg smiled and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

"Stay and play with us, Father! Please!" Marta asked then, looking up at her father entreatingly with her big, expressive eyes.

Automatically, Georg's eyes turned to Maria, who just grinned at him and nodded. Making up his mind, he took off his jacket and his tie, placing them on the back of the couch behind him, and rolled up his sleeves.

"All right," he clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, sitting on the floor between Brigitta and Marta.

"Anything you want," Brigitta said, passing on to him a handful of clay.

"Well, it's been many years since I clay modelled, but I'll see what I can do." Georg buried his fingers in the clay and made a face at its coldness. When he got used to it, he began to knead it skilfully, focusing all his attention on the matter at hand.

Maria and the girls completely forgot about what they were doing, and watched the long, slender fingers modelling the clay with riveting expertise.

Georg used the vase he had given Brigitta to make the base of what appeared to be a second bowl. Then, he kneaded long rolls and attached them all around the base, one on top of the other. In just a few minutes he completed the bowl. After that, he spent an equal amount of time fusing the rolls together until there was no trace of them and the surface was perfectly flat and even.

Maria couldn't take her eyes off those graceful hands as they worked with breathtaking elegance and precision.

"So, Fräulein..."

The Captain's voice shook her out of her trance and she raised her eyes to his.

"Yes?"

"Do you think that after this I'm going to need some play clothes too?" he asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Maria burst out laughing wholeheartedly.

"Only if you intend to make a habit out of clay modelling, sir," she rejoined after recovering. "For some reason, I can't picture you in play clothes."

"Oh," Georg smiled. "I hope that doesn't mean you consider me boring."

"Far from it, Captain," Maria hastened to amend her words, in case they had given the wrong impression. "I consider you a very interesting personality."

Their eyes met again and locked onto each other for some time.

"The feeling's mutual," he said, in soft acknowledgment.

Not used to being complimented, Maria didn't know how to respond. She looked down, glowing inside that he thought so apparently highly of her. She rubbed the tip of her nose with the back of her hand and returned to her own modelling, but her eyes turned involuntarily to his hands and the beautiful thing he was creating out of such crude material.

"Did you also play with your mummy and daddy when you were little, Fräulein Maria?" Gretl asked out of the blue.

Caught off-balance by the child's question, Maria felt as if something had hit her in the guts.

"No, sweetie," she said, forcing a smile so the little girl didn't notice the effect her question had had on her. "I had lost both my parents by the time I was your age."

The silence that ensued could have been cut with a knife. Maria felt the Captain stiffening in reaction to her reply.

"I'm so very sorry, Fräulein Maria," Brigitta reached out across the table and held her hand, squeezing it gently.

"It's all right, darling," Maria squeezed the small hand back, fighting to regain her composure. "Now don't get distracted from what your father's doing!" she shook the hand in hers with a conspiratorial smile. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Ooohh!" the three girls exclaimed when they saw the medium-sized cup. Georg was adding the final touches on the delicate handle, making sure it was thoroughly fused to the cup itself. "Father, it's beautiful!" they said in unison.

"Do you like it?" Georg said, moving the cup around in his hand so they could look at it from every angle.

"Oh, yes. It's perfect!" Brigitta couldn't look away from it.

With a smile, Georg put it on the table and used a piece of cloth to wipe his hands. Immediately, Gretl reached for it.

"Don't touch it, honey!" Maria quickly took the little girl's hand in her own, that way keeping it away from the cup. "You've seen how soft clay is. If you grabbed it your fingers would leave marks on it."

"But I want Father to make more cups so we can play with them," Gretl complained.

"I will make all the cups you want, darling," Georg promised his daughter, "but you'll still have to wait until the clay gets dry to play with it."

"And how long will it take to get dry?" Gretl asked, growing impatient already.

"One day or two," Georg said, anticipating already the face of annoyance on his youngest's features.

"But remember that even dry, it'll still be extremely fragile," Maria reminded the little girls. "If you dropped it to the floor, it would shatter."

"Oh," Gretl said, looking at the cup warily now.

"Like many things in life, they seem tough and firm on the outside, but they're actually very tender and frail inside." Georg realized his words held a hidden, deeper meaning than he had intended for them to have, and wondered what made him say them. They were beyond his daughters' understanding.

"You have to be very gentle when you're handling them, so they last for a very long time," the intensity in Maria's voice echoed Georg's, as if completing some unspoken common thought.

Instinctively, their eyes sought each other, and they felt some sort of connection taking place between them. Some kind of eerie understanding at an elemental level.

"Father!" Kurt called, walking up to them. "Lunchtime's getting closer. Can we go and wash our hands?"

Humour raised from both their depths, and they shared a knowing smile.

"Of course. Go ahead," Georg waved the hand with the cloth in it.

Maria turned to the girls at the table.

"You can go too. I'll clear the room."

"All right," Brigitta nodded, rising to her feet. "Come on!" she urged her little sisters.

A few seconds later, Georg and Maria were alone in the room.

"Ouch!" Maria's legs wobbled when she stood up.

"What is it?" the Captain asked, reaching out one hand and steadying her.

"My legs have gone to sleep," she said with a short laugh, bending down and rubbing her calves briskly. "I guess I've been sitting in that position for too long."

"Do you also have problems keeping still, like my children?" Georg teased with a smile.

"If persuaded, I can keep still just like the next person," she quipped, with a shake of her head.

He let out a rumble of laughter, very pleased with her witty reply. Wordlessly, he helped her to uncover the furniture. Only the carpet under the small table where they had been clay-modelling and the table itself were covered. Friedrich had been very careful while carving, and he had gathered together all the splinters he had cut away, and taken them with him. Together, they moved the table aside and Maria rolled up the cloth on the floor.

Georg watched her, full of curiosity. This young woman was a study in contrasts. Innocent, outspoken, with firm beliefs, stubborn, optimistic, always ready to help anybody who needed it, and extremely protective of the children's feelings. She seemed to know instinctively how to approach each one of them, treating them as individuals, not a group. But there were some scars in that spirited soul too. He had been shocked at the naked sight of them when she had revealed she was already an orphan at Gretl's age. Her words had a profound impact on him.

He had misjudged her on so many levels. He had treated her as if she was barely an adult, with no experience of the world, coming as she did from a convent, apart from the real problems of the real people.

He had forgotten that life has the nasty habit of hitting you hard. It's impossible to have reached adulthood without having seen and experienced first-hand the most merciless side of life.

From what he had learned today, life had hit her earlier in life than it hit most people.

But she didn't want compassion or pity. She embraced life too enthusiastically to waste a moment feeling sorry for herself.

At that moment, Maria turned about and looked at him, her face slightly flushed after bending down, holding an armload of cloth to her front.

A wave of affection that he couldn't hold back swept him away, and Georg smiled at her.

Her eyes opened wide at his spontaneous smile, clearly disconcerted.

"Ah, I'll come back now for the cup," she said. "I'll keep it in my room until it gets dry."

Georg nodded.

"I'll have to complete the set in the next few days," he sighed with fake resignation.

Maria chuckled.

"I'm afraid so, sir." She looked down at the cup resting on a little piece of cloth on the table. "It's really beautiful. You're very gifted," she met his eyes squarely, with open admiration.

Georg smiled again.

"And you're very messy," he said out of the blue, his smile broadening.

"Excuse me?" Maria's eyes almost popped out of their sockets at the non-sequitur.

Reaching out with the cloth he had used to clean his hands, Georg wiped the mark she had on the tip of her nose.

"You left a smudge of clay when you rubbed your nose earlier."

"Oh," Maria blushed in embarrassment, making a face. "It happens to me all the time. I guess I _am_ messy."

Georg dropped his arm.

"Your secret's safe with me," he reassured her humorously.

"Don't bother. It's an open secret, Captain," she gave him a one-armed shrug.

Georg laughed again, disarmed by her honesty and her capacity to laugh at herself. He found it incredibly refreshing.

Maria smiled at his smile. For the first time, she noticed how youthful he looked every time he laughed.

"Well, I'd better see how the children are doing," she said after a moment. "They never _just_ wash their hands."

"Oh, I believe you," Georg nodded emphatically.

Maria nodded back and turned around. When she was leaving the room, she heard him calling her softly.

"Fräulein."

"Yes?" she asked, half-turning.

"You're very gifted, too," he said meaningfully, suddenly serious.

Taken aback by the totally unexpected praise, Maria simply stood where she was, blinking in astonishment.

"Thank you, sir. It's very kind of you to say so," she finally articulated her thoughts in a coherent manner. A soft blush covered her cheeks as she left.

* * *

A couple of days later, Maria entered the lounge where the Captain, Baroness Schraeder and Max Detweiler were enjoying a quiet evening, engaged in a relaxed conversation.

"Excuse me, Captain," she said, somewhat shyly.

"Yes, Fräulein," Georg smiled on seeing her, sitting up straighter.

"I wanted to talk to you about something."

The vagueness of her request piqued Georg's curiosity and he rose to his feet.

"Certainly," he nodded. "Excuse us for a moment," he told Max and Elsa. He escorted Maria out of the room and into the hall. "What is it?" he asked, turning to her.

Maria looked down at her hands, obviously uncomfortable with the subject she wanted to broach.

"Is there something wrong?" Georg asked, a bit alarmed.

"Oh, no sir!" she looked up at him, looking for the right words. "Well, you see... ah, I wanted to talk to you about my salary."

"Your salary!?" Georg bent forward, as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"Yes." Maria looked away. "Last week, I asked you to have my salary sent to the Abbey, so the sisters put it to good use."

"Yes?" Georg prompted, infinitely curious now.

Maria braved his eyes again and let it all out in one go.

"I wanted to ask you to let me keep a part of it. I just found out that Friedrich's birthday will be next week, and I realized that I'll need some money to buy the children presents as their birthdays are coming up, and..."

Georg closed his eyes, shook his head and burst out laughing.

Maria stared up at him, stupefied.

"Oh, bless you, Fräulein. You're absolutely extraordinary!" he managed to utter in between laughs.

Not knowing how to respond to that, Maria simply stood there, a little smile on her face at the sight of his hearty laughter.

When he pulled himself together, Georg looked at her, still shaking his head.

"Request granted, Fräulein Maria. The third part of your salary will suffice?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. It'll be more than enough, thank you," Maria nodded, sounding positively relieved.

At that, Georg gazed at her with a fond look in his eyes.

"No, Fräulein. Thank *you*," he said.

Blinking innocently, Maria smiled up at him.

Laughter coming from outside drew both their attention.

"They're waiting for me," Maria explained. "I'll join them now."

Georg nodded to her.

Maria went out and closed the door after her. Georg stared at the closed doors for a few moments, then looked down and shook his head once more, the fond smile returning to his lips.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	3. Chapter 3

"What?!" Maria exclaimed. "Your father's birthday's next week?"

Louisa nodded.

"Next Friday."

Maria covered her cheek with her hand and shook her head in dismay. Friedrich's birthday had been only four days ago, for heaven's sake!

"My goodness, everybody's birthdays are coming up one after the other," she muttered to herself.

"There's eight of us," Liesl reminded her with a soft smile.

Maria sighed and nodded to herself resignedly.

"Don't worry, Fräulein Maria," Friedrich took pity on her. "There'll be no more birthdays till September." He looked at his youngest sister. "Gretl will turn six on the fourteenth."

Gretl nodded and gave Maria a toothy grin.

Maria reached out and pinched the little girl's nose affectionately, making her giggle.

"All right, then," she stood up and put her guitar in its case. "Do you know what you're going to give your father?"

The children looked at each other in silence.

"Well, not really," Liesl answered for them all. "It's difficult."

"Difficult?" Maria looked at them.

"Yes. We never know what to buy. He doesn't need anything," Louisa said, shrugging noncomittally.

"I'm sure he'll love anything you give him, but I know what you mean," Maria pulled at her lower lip, deep in thought.

"Last year, he ended up with three ties, two pairs of gloves, one set of handkerchieves and a scarf," Kurt winced at the memory.

"That's because we didn't say what we were getting him," Brigitta blushed in embarrassment. "And we all ended up thinking about the same things."

"What if instead of seven different presents, you get him only one?" Maria suggested all of a sudden. "By putting all your money together, you'll have more money to spend, and a wider range of things to choose from."

A short silence followed her suggestion.

"That's a wonderful idea!" Liesl exclaimed, smiling at her.

All the children agreed excitedly.

"Now we only have to think about what we're going to get," Friedrich reminded them all. "And that's going to be tricky."

"It's _always_ tricky," Kurt emphasized.

"This year it won't be, you'll see," Maria assured them. "We'll think about it during the weekend. Something will come up."

The children made some skeptical murmuring.

"Well, if things get desperate, we could always try and draw him out," Maria suggested with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Draw him out?" Marta asked.

"Yes, darling," Maria said, sitting her in her lap. "We could start talking about music or books, and if he happens to mention some book or music he's interested in..."

"We'll get him the book or the recording in question," Liesl finished for her.

"That's very sneaky," Louisa commented. "I like it!"

They burst out laughing.

"It's getting dark," Maria said then, looking up at the sky. "Let's go back inside."

* * *

"Father, are you coming with us tomorrow?" Brigitta asked during dinner.

"To your picnic?" Georg said, putting down his glass. "I'm afraid I won't be able to accompany you this time, darling. I have some business to take care of in town and I wouldn't make it in time. You'll have to go without me."

The children looked down, clearly disappointed, but didn't say a word.

The thick silence was the dead giveaway of just how upset the children were. Their father had been hinting all week that he might be able to accompany them.

Georg met Maria's eyes across the table with an apologetic look. Maria returned his look with a bittersweet smile of understanding.

"Surely, you'd rather have your father with you all day long instead of just a couple hours, or even less than that," she tried to cheer them up.

"Exactly," Georg joined in, giving Maria a grateful look. "I promise I will accompany you on your next picnic. You have my word."

"I would accompany you," Max chimed in then, "but by the time we got to the top of the hills, I'd be having a heart attack, so with great regret, I'll have to pass."

There were some rumbles of laughter at that.

"And what will you be doing instead of communing with nature, Max?" Elsa asked.

"Oh," Max wiped his mouth with his napkin, "I intend to indulge in some healthy stealing."

"Explain that," Georg invited.

"A little bird told me that if I play my cards right, I just might be able to steal back that mixed quartet that Sascha Petrie stole from me first."

"I see," Elsa looked at her friend with a mischievous look. "And if your stealing abilities are too rusty, there's always this other choir... what was their name, darling?" she asked Georg.

"The Klopmann choir," Georg supplied.

"That's right," she turned back to Max. "I called you outrageous, but you truly have no shame, Max Detweiler."

"And you found out just now?" Max inquired with a sympathetic look.

* * *

"It's Monday," Kurt said, lying down on the grass and patting his stuffed stomach. "Father's birthday's only four days away, and we still don't know what to give him."

"At least, we know what we're _not_ going to give him," Friedrich tried to say something useful, but made a face when he realized he had only stated the obvious.

"Oh, thank you very much. That was really bright of you, Friedrich," Louisa mocked him.

"I didn't hear you say anything bright so far, either," Friedrich shot back.

"That's why I didn't say anything at all."

"All right, you two," Maria silenced the two children with a mildly warning look. "Sometimes, reverse logic works. You know you don't want to buy your father any type of clothing, so that leaves us..."

"...Back to square one," Liesl finished for them.

Maria began strumming her guitar absently, hoping for the notes and the music to spark any ideas in her mind.

The thing was that she was also at a loss what to buy her employer. She evoked a mental image of him and tried to imagine what such a man would like to have. Something thoughtful and nice, but also practical, something that didn't end up in a box or gathering dust on a shelf. But soon enough, her mind began to wander.

His intense blue eyes, his beautiful smile, his incredibly expressive hands, so talented and loving when holding and caressing his children...

"Fräulein Maria?" Marta's little hand tapping her on the shoulder brought her back with a start.

"Sorry, darling, you were saying?"

"Nothing. You seemed to be so far away..."

"I was trying to come up with something, that's all," Maria said, shaking her head. "But I have to admit defeat," she sighed. "For now," she amended herself, putting her guitar aside. "Come on," she reached out and held the little girl's hand, pulling at it, "let's lie down for a while. Maybe it'll come to us when we're _not_ thinking about it."

Everybody obeyed and lay down on the grass, looking at the sky and the mountains ahead, as if they held the answer they were looking for. Little by little, they fell asleep, as the drowsiness of digestion settled in.

* * *

"Fräulein Maria. Fräulein Maria, please," a pleading little voice in her ear roused Maria from her sleep gradually.

"Umphh, yes. What is it?" she asked in a slurred voice, unwilling to open her eyes.

"I feel sick."

Those words _did_ throw Maria out of sleep. She sat up with a jolt.

"W-what?!"

In front of her, a doubled-over Gretl held her stomach.

"It hurts," she moaned.

The little girl was distinctly pale and sweaty.

"Oh, darling," Maria reached out and placed her hand on the child's belly. "You had too much of everything for lunch, and now you have an indigestion."

"It hurts," the little girl moaned again, on the verge of tears.

"I know, sweetheart," Maria rose to her kness and hugged the little girl to her, lying her down across her legs in her lap. "But it'll pass in a while. Just hold on to me." She bit her lower lip, in growing concern. Getting the child back home would be difficult if she started vomiting.

"I'm going to be sick," Gretl suddenly said, confirming her worst fears.

Keeping her calm, Maria took the girl a few paces away from her brothers and sisters, and held her head while the child threw up her lunch. The sounds she made inevitably awakened the other children, who became very alarmed at the sight of their sick little sister.

When the little girl stopped vomiting, Maria asked her siblings for a napkin to wipe the child's mouth.

"How're you feeling now, darling?" she asked, stroking the flushed cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Better, but my tummy still hurts," Gretl complained, rubbing her throat. She had an awful taste in her mouth.

"Give me the water," Maria asked.

Brigitta handed it to her and then stepped back, twisting her hands nervously.

"Wash your mouth with the water and then spit it out," Maria instructed the child.

Gretl obeyed.

"Thank you, Fräulein Maria," she said, smiling at her tremulously.

"You're welcome, honey," Maria smiled, wiping her mouth again and caressing her face. "Now lie down and rest for a moment."

When the child was comfortably settled with her head on Maria's thigh, she waved at her siblings to come closer.

"What are we going to do?" Liesl asked in a low voice. "I don't think she'll take the trip back home in the bus. She could start vomiting again."

"Let's wait and see," Maria said. "It's still too soon to go back. Depending on how she feels in a couple hours, we'll see what we'll do."

"Some of us could go home and ask Father to come and pick you up," Friedrich suggested.

"I had thought of that," Maria nodded, looking down at the child. "As I said, let's wait and see."

For the next hour, the children killed time by playing cards, reading, throwing the ball at each other or picking flowers nearby. Nothing too noisy that disturbed their little sister, who finally fell asleep on Maria.

Gretl's cheeks were still flushed, so Maria wet one of the spare napkins in water and applied it to her forehead, hoping to alleviate any discomfort.

At some point, Friedrich threw the ball at his brother too far, and Kurt had to run quite a distance to get it. When he was turning about, he caught a glimpse of someone climbing the hill towards them. Looking closely, he immediately recognized the familiar shape.

"Father!" he called, waving his hand at him.

Everybody turned their heads at Kurt's cry.

"Father, hurry!" Kurt called, dropping the ball and waving both arms at him.

Georg waved back at him, a wide smile on his lips, as he made it to the top. By then, the other five children had joined their brother, waving at him frantically.

"Father, Gretl's sick!" they said at the same time.

The smile disappeared from Georg's lips instantly.

"Sick?" he asked, deadly serious.

* * *

Maria had never been so glad to see anyone in her entire life. She raised her hand in greeting, as Georg approached them at a brisk pace.

Taking off his hat, Georg sat down on the grass next to Maria, and looked down at his daughter, putting his hand on her face.

"What happened?" he asked.

"An indigestion," Maria replied. "She felt better after throwing up, but her tummy still hurt."

"She seems quiet now," Georg sighed in relief.

Maria nodded.

"I decided to wait and see if she felt better after waking up. Sometimes, sleeping off a headache or a stomachache is the best medicine."

Georg nodded back at her approvingly and held one tiny hand in his own. He stroked it gently in silence with his thumb.

"I'm glad you came," Maria couldn't hold back her words.

"I am glad too," Georg said, meeting her eyes. "Even if I only got to spend a few minutes with them up here. I already wasted four years. I don't want to miss one single minute more, if I can help it."

Maria smiled at him softly, and he returned her smile somewhat self-consciously. Then, she looked down at the bundle in her arms.

"She's getting her colour back. She was so pale earlier," she tipped her head, gazing at the child.

Both of them reached out at the same time and their fingertips met on the girl's hair. A spark of electricity shot through them and Maria moved her hand back, a bit startled.

Georg buried his fingers in the long blond hair, in a loving caress.

"She's got her mother's hair," he murmured after a while. "The same colour and softness."

Something caught in Maria's throat.

"I can imagine how deeply it must have hurt," she said in a raspy voice. "Deeply enough to..."

"To numb my feelings," Georg said the words for her. "Feeling nothing was preferable to feeling so much pain." He let out a long sigh. "But by withdrawing into myself I caused a greater harm to my children than their mother's death ever did." He looked up and stared at the evening sky. "I will never forgive myself for that." His expression hardened.

"Making mistakes is human. We must learn to forgive ourselves."

Georg made an ironic face that also held a hint of uneasiness.

"It's difficult to accept... the darkness in yourself. Especially if it hurts those you love."

"There's darkness in all of us," Maria reminded him. "And sometimes, we have to lean on it to survive. It becomes our refuge. But the light is always there, in the shadows, waiting for us to be brave and let it become a part of our lives again." The deep emotion his features conveyed, struck her like it never had before, and the look in his eyes filled her with a profound longing. She wished to say or do something that comforted the pain that had surfaced in that noble face.

"You were that light for us. For me," Georg said all of a sudden, turning his head and looking at her. "You reconciled me with my children, with myself." He smiled at her with an intensity Maria had never experienced before. "I'll be forever in your debt."

Maria opened her mouth, trying to say something, but the words wouldn't come.

"N-no debt, Captain. You owe me nothing. Nothing at all."

"In my heart, I feel I do," his smile softened. "And I also owe you a proper apology for my words and attitude that day, when you rightfully gave me a piece of your mind. I was completely out of line. I beg your forgiveness, Fräulein." His eyes bored into hers, willing her to feel his sincerity.

Maria stared at him, unable to believe what she was hearing. No one had ever held her feelings in such esteem before. No one had cared enough to apologize in such a heartfelt manner. His eyes seemed to be reaching out to her, needing some sort of response from her, a reassurance.

"Father," a little voice made them both look down at the same time.

Gretl stirred, her eyes half-open, looking up at her father in wonderment.

"Hello, sweetheart," Georg smiled at her, caressing her cheek with the back of his fingers. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she smiled at him. "My tummy doesn't hurt anymore."

"I'm very happy to hear that," Georg said, pinching her nose playfully. "But now, young lady, is time to go home."

"Oh, no, Father," the child protested, sitting up in Maria's lap. "I want to stay a little bit more. I had no fun here today."

Georg let out a short laugh.

"You'll have fun another day, soon," he promised. "I'll come with you and we'll spend all day together."

"Really?!" Gretl's eyes opened wide, full of hope.

"Of course," Georg bent forward and took the little girl from Maria's arms, rising to his feet effortlessly.

Gretl clung to her father and pecked his cheek, bursting with joy.

Maria followed them, entranced by the sight of that man and his children climbing down the hill. The togetherness they exuded. Suddenly, her heart seemed to grow too big for her chest, and she halted in her tracks.

Just then, Georg stopped and looked back at her.

"Come on, Fräulein. Let's go home!" he gave her a full smile.

Returning his smile, Maria hurried after them.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	4. Chapter 4

The day after, Gretl was bouncing and jumping again, quite recovered from her indigestion, and urging Maria to go out with her brothers and sisters and buy a lovely present for their father. Maria refused, wanting to give the girl at least one day to recover.

Luckily, the day dawned _very_ rainy, and shopping was out of the question. Instead, it was spent inside, quietly and at peace. As quietly and at peace as seven children permitted.

* * *

Wednesday started sunny and bright, and it was decided with just one look over breakfast that that day would be the day. Maria gathered the children afterwards and told them to get ready and wait for her, while she informed their father they were going out.

Georg was sitting at his desk, checking the mail Franz had just handed over to him. The butler stood in front of the table, listening to the Captain's instructions for the day.

Maria knocked softly on the open door, making her presence known. Georg looked up from his mail and smiled at the sight of her.

"Come in, Fräulein. It'll be just a moment."

Maria nodded and walked into the room, hands behind her back. She stopped a few steps behind the butler and looked away, not wanting to give the impression that she was prying. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the room itself. To the shelves and the number of books filling them. She was too far away to read the titles, but one thing was clear. Her employer had a wide variety of tastes. Something in the room felt so cozy, so comfortable and warm, that she relaxed unconsciously.

Meanwhile, Georg opened his desk diary and began turning page after page.

"It's running out of pages," he muttered to himself, finding a blank page at last and beginning to scribble on it.

Maria's ears perked up at those words. She bit her lips to hide her smile.

"With your permission, sir. Do you want to read the press after this?" Franz asked.

"Not now, Franz," Georg said without looking up. "When the Baroness's ready, we intend to go shopping." He finished writing and closed the diary. "She's been insisting the last few days, and apparently, it can't be postponed any longer." He put the cap on the pen and set it aside. "That will be all, thank you," he nodded.

"Very well, sir," the butler bowed his head courteously and left the room with a curt nod to Maria.

Maria nodded back at him and stepped forward.

"Well, Fräulein," Georg smiled at her and placed his hands on the table, one on top of the other. "What can I do for you?"

"I just wanted to let you know that the children and I also intend to go shopping this morning, Captain," Maria said, becoming fascinated for a second by the shaft of sunlight touching his hair.

"What's with this shopping fever all of a sudden?" Georg wondered out loud, leaning back in his seat.

"We've also been postponing it, and it can't wait any longer," Maria replied evasively, forcing herself to meet his eyes.

"Oh," Georg's eyes opened wide for an instant in amusement. Then, he waved his hand in a gentle, elegant gesture. "In that case, by all means, have a good time."

"Thank you, Captain. You too," Maria said with a smile, turning about and heading for the door.

"By the way, Fräulein..."

"Yes?" she asked, stopping and looking back at him.

Georg crossed his arms on the table and his eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Please, make sure that I don't get any more articles of clothing this year."

Maria's jaw dropped open and her expression slackened. Quickly composing herself, she scowled and pursed her lips in annoyance. Then, she left the room, her body language giving her away.

Georg chuckled, watching her go.

* * *

"Well, children! Here we are!" Maria announced with a flourish, helping Gretl off the bus.

"We can only hope to get lucky," Friedrich said with a sigh.

"Our feet will smoke before we find something," Louisa predicted with a grimace.

"You're such an optimist," Brigitta scoffed at her older sister with a soft slap on her arm.

"Realist," Louisa shrugged matter-of-factly.

"Come on!" Maria moved ahead, holding Gretl and Marta's hands.

* * *

For the next hour, Maria and the children studied every shop window, hoping for some item on display to draw their attention. They had no such luck. Finally, they took a break and sat down on two benches on a plaza, catching their breath.

"I think the umbrella with the silver handle and the Tyrolean hat are the best choices," Friedrich said glumly, turning his own hat on his forefinger, trying to cheer himself.

"Ungh," Kurt replied, most expressively.

"The umbrella maybe, but definitely no hats," Maria said adamantly.

"Why not?" Marta asked with honest curiosity.

Maria looked away before answering.

"Something tells me that your father wouldn't enjoy it much."

"Ah," Marta nodded, clearly not following her governess' reasoning.

"So," Kurt said, addressing them all. "The umbrella, then?"

Everybody looked at each other and nodded in agreement a bit reluctantly. They weren't very excited about it, but it was the closest they had got to it.

"Let's go!" Maria jumped to her feet and reached for the little ones' hands. Gretl looked a bit tired after so much aimless wandering, and not wanting the child to get too tired after her ordeal of two days ago, she decided to get to the shop using a shortcut.

They hadn't walked that particular street before, so they studied the shop windows more out of habit than anything else.

And then, there _it_ was.

The group came to an abrupt stop, as if struck by lightning.

Before them, the most beautiful wood model schooner they had ever seen, lay on display. About 30 centimetres tall, 40 centimetres wide, with three masts and a myriad of sails, and perfect to the smallest detail.

Maria stared at the ship, enraptured, unable to look away.

"We found it," Liesl said behind her solemnly.

They quickly walked into the shop and Maria asked for the price. The craftmanship was so exquisite that she feared that not even the children's money put together would cover it. Thank God, it turned out it did, only just. Fifteen minutes later the group left the shop, pleased as Punch, carrying a big, finely packaged box, with the utmost care.

Maria still had to buy her present, so on the way to the bus stop, she looked for a stationer's. She found one in the same plaza where they waited for the bus. Having the children comfortably seated, she asked Liesl to take care of her siblings as she bought a gift for their father.

The shop was old, but it sold good material. Maria started looking for desk diaries. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the leather-bound ones. Then, just as it had happened with the schooner, there _it_ was. Elegant and classic, with a little, lovely picture on the cover portraying a small, lonely sailing ship, heading for the sunset. She smiled softly, imagining the Captain's fingers touching it, feeling the smooth coolness of the leather before opening it and turning the pages. He would like this one, she felt it.

The diary turned out to be more expensive than she thought, but Maria never hesitated. She invested all the money she had happily, and left the shop holding the package to her chest with a smile of sweet contentment on her face.

* * *

The Captain's birthday dawned mostly sunny, and Maria thanked God for that. She hurried to wash up and get dressed because the children and she had planned to wait for the Captain at the table, and surprise him by singing "Happy Birthday" to him the moment he entered the dining room.

The children had never looked so nervous before. This was their father's first birthday they could enjoy and celebrate as a family, in the true sense of the word, in a very long time. So long that some of them didn't remember the last truly happy one, so little they were. Everything had to be _absolutely perfect_.

Finally, they heard footsteps outside. Barely holding back their impatience and excitement, the children burst into song the moment Georg's shadow preceded him into the dining room.

Maria smiled and bit her lips, shaking her head in amusement. They started pretty uncoordinated, but they managed to catch up on each other quite fast, and the last part of the song was flawlessly, adorably rendered.

Georg's face illuminated, and he listened attentively, looking at each one of his children in turn, dedicating to them the most beautiful smile. He was honestly moved, and somewhat shy, if the soft blush on his cheeks was anything to go by. Maria found herself unable to look away.

When the song was over there was a short pause. Georg took a deep breath, composing himself, and reached out both arms to his children.

That was all it took. The children rushed forward from their seats and formed a circle around their father, hungry for his touch, and wishing him a happy birthday time and again.

Maria looked down. This was a private moment between that man and his children, and she didn't want to intrude.

When it was quiet in the room again, Maria dared to look up, only to find the Captain's eyes already on her. They were slightly misty, and he mouthed a wordless 'thank you' to her.

Maria shook her head and smiled back at him, allowing the emotion in her own eyes to show.

After everybody pulled themselves together, the children returned to their seats, receiving Max's and the Baroness' congratulations on their lovely performance.

* * *

It was a very emotive day through and through. It felt as if all the emotions that had been brushed aside and repressed for years, had come to the forefront and couldn't be held back.

The more restrained moments, strangely, were the moments when Max and the Baroness presented their gifts to Georg. Elsa had chosen a beautiful pair of gold cuff links, and Max offered Georg a bottle of the most expensive Chardonnay. With an impish smile, Georg thanked him for his gift, claiming that it was about time he tried to make up for all the years of raiding his cellar. Arching an eyebrow, Max asked how did he know the bottle didn't come from there. Georg's hearty laughter triggered everybody else's.

Lunchtime arrived sooner than expected, and it was right after lunch that the children entered the living room, carrying a big package. Georg seemed a bit taken aback by the size of the present, and took his time unwrapping it, as if wanting to prolong the moment. The little ones kept urging him on, unable to hold back their excitement.

Deep down, Maria was just as excited as the childen. Something told her that they had made the perfect choice, and she couldn't wait to see the look in the Captain's eyes. She stepped back respectfully, setting herself to enjoy the moment from afar.

When the model schooner was revealed at last, Georg froze. His eyes roamed over it, studying every tiny little detail. The expression on his face was unlike anything Maria, and the children for that matter, had ever seen. After what seemed like a lifetime, he reached out and touched one of the sails with his fingertips, caressing it delicately. Then, his eyes raised to his children, who looked at him not knowing what to make of their father's reaction.

"I couldn't ask for a more perfect and thoughtful gift," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you, my children. Thank you very much."

Maria had never seen anything so beautiful as the look in his eyes at that very moment.

The children didn't leave their father's side all evening. They played tag and ball after enjoying a light refreshment in the terrace at the back of the house. Then, Maria persuaded them to sit on the grass and learn a couple new songs. As they practised their singing, Georg played the attentive audience, chuckling at Louisa's protests that the songs were so corny she'd rather put her head in a wasps' nest.

Dinner was the perfect conclusion to a perfect day. The children were shining when they bade their father goodnight.

It was when she was about to retire that Maria realized she still hadn't given her present to the Captain. Hurrying to her room and praying that he hadn't retired by the time she came down, she headed for her employer's study, and knocked softly.

"Come in," was the soft reply.

Suddenly nervous, Maria opened the door and walked in with slow, measured steps, holding the package to her chest. She found him on his feet and with his back to her, facing the bookcase.

"Excuse me for bothering you at such a late hour, Captain," she said.

"No bother at all, Fräulein. You're always welcome."

Maria's heart skipped a beat at those words, and it skipped another when she saw that he had placed his children's present in a prominent place in his study, dominating the impressive bookcase. In fact, he had been looking at it since she had entered, hands behind his back, in his customary stance.

She came to a halt, admiring the newest arrangement and the added warmth it gave to the already cozy room.

Georg turned about and looked at her. His eyes strayed over to the package she held to her bosom. The shadow of a smile crossed his lips.

"Something important I should know about?" he asked.

Maria looked down at herself and quickly brought down her arms.

"It's my present, sir," she said somewhat awkwardly.

"And may I ask why did you wait until now to give it to me?" Georg's smile blossomed with a hint of playfulness.

"Well, I..." Maria started, unexpectedly at a loss for words. "It never seemed to be a good time to give it to you, sir. It was your day, with your family and your closest ones. I felt like I was intruding. I... I only work here." Her voice dropped at that but recovering fast, she held out her gift.

Georg took the package from her hands and stared at it for a short while. Then, he looked up into her eyes, the smile gone from his lips.

"Let's get one thing straight right here and now, Fräulein. You never intrude, and certainly, you never _only_ _work here_. Is that understood?"

Maria could only nod at the sound of that voice and the intensity of that blue gaze.

The smile returned to the noble features, that promptly focused on the task of opening the nicely wrapped package with deft, gentle fingers.

When the desk diary appeared before his eyes, Georg's smile softened.

"How did you know?" he asked, looking up from his present. But immediately, realization dawned. "Oh, my words the other morning in this very room."

Maria nodded assent, drinking in the pleased look in his eyes.

Georg walked up behind his desk and put aside his old diary, replacing it with Maria's. His fingertips brushed the picture of the sailing ship on the cover.

"Happy Birthday, Captain," Maria uttered from the bottom of her heart.

Deep in thought, Georg nodded to himself.

"It has been a happy day," he said absent-mindedly. Maria thought she detected a hint of surprise in his voice, but before she could go further with her musings, he shook himself out of his reverie and met her eyes squarely.

Maria often thought that her employer's eyes had the quality of reaching deep into one's soul. They were frank, intense and profoundly honest. She had never been intimidated by those intense gazes, quite the contrary. From the very beginning, she had realized that she could read his every mood and state of mind just looking into his eyes, and she had come to rely almost exclusively on it when relating to him.

But tonight, something happened. The moment his blue depths bored into hers, Maria felt as if something surged up from the very core of her being. Something that lunged forward and rushed to meet him.

And then, Georg smiled. A smile that shone brighter than sunlight, entirely for her. He nodded at her, as if honouring something only he was privy to.

"Thank you, Fräulein," he simply said. "For everything," he added after a short pause, full of meaning.

The million nuances in those softly spoken words took Maria's breath away. All of a sudden she couldn't look away, she couldn't move, she couldn't _breathe._ She opened her mouth, but no sound came out of it.

Soft steps echoed closer and closer, and the door that was only slightly ajar was pushed open all the way.

"Georg, darling..." the Baroness walked in with her usual elegant air.

Startled out of that peculiar trance, Maria swirled around.

"I must retire now," she said, composing herself with admirable speed. "Good night, Captain."

"Good night, Fräulein," was the strangely hoarse reply.

Maria nodded to the Baroness on her way out.

"Are you all right, my dear?" Elsa asked when Maria walked past her, making her stop. "You look a bit flushed."

"I'm just fine. Thank you, Baroness. Good night," she replied, bowing her head courteously and starting for the door again.

Elsa's eyes moved from the retreating Maria to Georg. She tipped her head to one side with a quizzical look.

* * *

Once in her nightgown, Maria opened her bed and dropped to her knees beside it. Crossing herself, she began her nightly prayer.

"Dear Father," she began, resting her interlaced hands on the coverlet, "_thank you_ for today. For making it as lovely and perfect as I prayed for. Thank you for the joy and happiness you brought back to this family. Please, make it last for a very long time." She made a pause and took a deep breath, getting ready for her long list. "Bless Frau Schmidt, bless Franz, Gerdi, Gertrude, Klaus and everybody." A fond smile played across her lips. "Bless Liesl, Friedrich, Louisa, Kurt, Brigitta, Marta and Gretl. And dear God..." she looked up from the coverlet and a luminous glow appeared in her eyes, "...bless the Captain." Something caught in her throat at the mention of her employer, and she had to stop her praying. It felt as if a fist was squeezing her heart, and the pressure made her next words flow right out of her mouth. "Bless the Baroness, dear Father. Make her love him and the children the way they deserve to be loved."

She stayed on her knees for a while, a distant look in her eyes. When she returned from the hazy place where she had retreated into, she looked around, studying her room. The walls, the drapes, the bedside table, the closet, the doors, even the overhead lamp. It all felt like it had a different texture; a new, indefinable quality that she couldn't quite grasp. She felt eerily disconnected, detached from herself and her own feelings. It was bizarre and a bit frightening.

Crossing herself in silence and rising to her feet, she got into bed and turned off the lamp on her bedside table, burrowing deep into her covers. Her heart couldn't stop hammering in her chest and closing her eyes, she fought to conjure up an image that exorcized the faceless ghost haunting her thoughts. Instantly, a picture of the Captain filled the chilling void. The picture succeeded in both soothing and puzzling her.

Finally, she fell asleep.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	5. Chapter 5

It was barely dawn when Maria opened her eyes again. She turned and lay on her back, staring at the ceiling and letting her mind wander. She couldn't concentrate on anything specific, and she pinched the bridge of her nose in an attempt to clear her mind. Looking at the alarm clock, she saw that it was still one hour to eight. She let out a soft moan and her arm flopped back down on the bed. She was too awake now to fall asleep again.

On an impulse, she decided to rise and make herself useful. Throwing back the covers, she jumped out of bed.

When she came down to the hall, the first thing she noticed was the silence of the household. It felt unnaturally quiet. She initially thought that it was the children's absence that made the villa look so gloomy, but something told her that it was more than that.

Shaking off the irrational feeling, Maria started to look inside the open rooms, to see if someone else was up.

Just then, the main door opened and Gerdi, one of the maids, walked in, a medium-sized bunch of daisies in hand.

"Fräulein Maria!" she exclaimed on seeing her. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Good morning, Gerdi," Maria smiled at the young woman. "I woke up and I couldn't fall asleep again, so I came down to see if I could be of some help until it's time to awaken the children."

"Well, we've got everything pretty much covered down here already," Gerdi said, scratching her head. "It was a windy night and we're sweeping all the leaves and dirt, and cleaning up the entrance. Which reminds me I need another broom." She started walking again, but then she looked down at the bunch of flowers in her hand. She quickly looked up at Maria. "Could you put these in the empty vase in the second living room? I just picked them up."

"Certainly," Maria nodded, stepping forward and taking the flowers from her. She smelled them instinctively and smiled at the subtle scent of dew.

Pushing open the already half-open door of the second living room, Maria headed directly for the table by the window, lost in her own thoughts. While she was arranging the flowers in the vase, the unmistakable scent of sea water reached her nostrils. Turning her head, she saw the Captain sitting on the armchair, reading the morning papers.

"Good morning, Captain," she greeted him, her spirits lifting as if by magic. The fact that he didn't reply to her greeting never registered.

When the flowers were arranged to her liking, Maria nodded to herself and turned about. She looked at him for the second time and only then she noticed his posture, the stiffness of his body. He looked as if he was on guard, bracing himself against what he was reading.

Her heart missed a beat at the sudden feeling of foreboding. She had never seen him like that. Not even _at first_, as she privately called the time before he changed. He radiated anger, helplessness and pain.

"Is there something wrong, Captain?" she asked.

He didn't react at all. He didn't even seem to be there. His head was bent over the newspaper, staring at it close-faced, withdrawn, even forbidding. As if he was facing his deadliest enemy.

And for the first time in many years, Maria got reacquainted with an emotion she had prayed to never know again.

Fear.

Still, she walked up to him, within touching distance. She needed him to acknowledge her presence. She needed to see the man she had known until then, not this stranger she suddenly had in front of her.

"A-are you all right, sir?" she asked, a slight tremor in her voice.

Whatever emotion he detected in her voice, it worked. He snapped out of the dark place he had been dwelling on and looked up at her.

Maria couldn't describe all the things she saw in his eyes in that split second. Horror, fury, vulnerability... fear. _Fear_. But then, a veil of irony and cynicism took over, erasing all trace of any previous emotion.

"Tell me, Fräulein," he said in a harsh voice that sounded like sandpaper. "Am I insane for thinking that the whole world has gone mad but me?"

Maria blinked, totally at a loss how to answer. She opened her mouth, but couldn't think of anything to say. Indeed, she had no idea what he was talking about.

Georg barked an ugly, bitter laugh and stood up. Tiredly, he walked past her.

Maria's eyes followed him, and took in his hunched shoulders, his dejected stance. A flash of pain knifed through her and she looked down at the table, needing to see what had disturbed him so. She had to crane her neck until she could read the headlines.

ANSCHLUSS CLOSER AND CLOSER

Schuschnigg pushed to yield

Maria closed her eyes and bowed her head. She sighed out loud and when she managed to pull herself together, she looked at him again.

"Is it really that serious?" she asked at last, feeling more than inadequate. She didn't want to look ignorant of the world she lived in, but the truth was that she didn't know much about the international scene and its intricate political alliances. Still, she had eyes and ears. And she didn't like many of the things she had heard and read lately.

"Oh, yes," Georg let out a poignant smile. "Only complete annihilation will stop Hitler. But no one seems _to want_ to see it."

A shudder ran up and down Maria's spine.

"Are you talking about... war, sir?" the mere word made her tremble inside.

The saddest smile crossed Georg's features and he turned about, meeting Maria's eyes.

"Only someone who fought in one knows the horrors of war. The degree of destruction, the total absence of... civilization, of everything that makes us _human_, and worthy of that name. Compassion and humanity become an illusion, a distant memory. You're never the same again. A part of your soul dies forever."

Something surfaced in his eyes, something so horrendous that Maria almost recoiled from it. For a moment, she felt like she had seen that part of him. The part of Georg von Trapp that was gone for good after all the things he had seen... and done.

And something in her rose fiercely, responding to it, wanting to give him back what he had lost. She reached out and wrapped herself around that black void, cradling it protectively; tapping from some inner strength she didn't know she had.

The change in him was dramatic. His eyes became alive again and he made as if to come to her, but never did. Instead, his eyes regarded her with gratitude and a tenderness Maria had never experienced before.

An eternity seemed to pass, until he turned around again and faced the window, looking out at something beyond the world outside. Something only he could see.

"I'll do everything in my power to spare my children from those horrors. I won't allow my family to be put in danger for the megalomaniac whims of a madman."

Drawn to him by a force that couldn't, _wouldn't_ be denied, Maria walked up behind him and joined him looking out of the window. She saw her beloved mountains straight ahead, the land she had grown up in, her small world.

"And Austria?" she asked, not knowing where the words were coming from.

The ironical smile returned to Georg's lips.

"I'm afraid the Austria I used to know is ceasing to exist," he said without turning. "It's not the country I fought for. It can't be, when over ninety percent of Austrians would vote for the Anschluss." A thick, mournful silence followed. "Which takes us back to my first, rhetorical question, Fräulein," his voice was suddenly dripping with self-deprecation. "Am I mad for thinking that I'm the only sane man left in the world? That I'm alone in my convictions?" his eyes turned to her, expectant, belying the apparent levity of his question.

Maria looked up into those incredible blue eyes, seeing what they were asking of her, what they _needed_ from her. And she answered with the truth.

"You're the most well balanced, level-headed and lucid person I know," she uttered, in a tone of voice that was soft and earnest at the same time. "You've seen more of the world than I have, and know when a system becomes so corrupted that it perverts everything around it. A system that supports purges at night..." her voice dropped, as she remembered something she had heard a few years before, before entering the Abbey. Something that was too horrifying to contemplate.

Georg winced as he also remembered the event Maria referred to, and looked away. The broad shoulders hunched again, conveying a harrowing feeling of inevitability. Of impending doom.

Maria's heart broke for that proud, upright man, seeing him hopeless to prevent the future he could see looming over them all. She raised her eyes, praying to find the words he needed to hear. The words that would give him his confidence back.

"You may not have the power to change things, but you have the power of your convictions. You'll always have a choice, and you'll do the right thing, for you and your family." She swallowed the lump in her throat, needing to say more, needing to see those eyes shine again with self-confidence and pride. "And you're definitely not alone, Captain." Her hand reached out of its own volition and settled on his shoulder. "Never alone."

Georg's head turned sharply and looked at her. He seemed both stunned and moved beyond words. His eyes skittered all over her face, as if seeing her for the very first time. Finally, they came to rest on her hand on his shoulder.

Maria got lost in the thousand emotions playing across that breathtakingly open face. She had thought she could read him before, but it was nothing compared to the level of understanding they reached at that moment. She didn't know what they were saying to each other, but it was profound and meaningful. It was from soul to soul. The deepest experience she'd ever had. Unquestioningly, she offered everything she was for him to draw strength from.

But then, his eyes strayed over to his shoulder, and so did hers.

Shock replaced the peace and calm at the sight and feel of her hand on him. _Touching him_. She jerked back, removing her hand from his shoulder as if burned.

The audacity! How dared she? What had prompted her to such impropriety?

Georg's hand shot out just as hers was moving back, and clasped her fingers, as she began an endless, nervous string of apologies.

"Oh, my goodness! I can't believe I did that! Please, forgive me, Captain! I don't know what made me do..."

"It's all right."

And those quietly spoken words stopped her rambling on the spot.

Georg's expression softened and he gazed at her with the sweetest little smile. He bent forward deliberately, pinning her under those striking blue eyes.

"I needed it," he said more softly, if that was possible.

Maria's skin covered with goosebumps at the sound of that voice.

Georg looked at the small fingers in his hand, and his smile grew bigger.

"Human touch," he whispered to himself, getting suddenly serious and meeting her eyes again.

Together, they looked down at their joined hands and oh-so-slowly, they let go of each other. Hesitantly, reluctantly.

Somewhere far away, the grandfather clock struck eight.

"I- I have to wake up the children now," Maria murmured.

Georg nodded.

Maria tried, but couldn't bring herself to leave. A strange force kept her rooted to the floor, unable to walk away. His eyes. There was something in his eyes that seemed to be calling out to her. Something so warm, so safe, so achingly beautiful...

"What you just did..." his voice seemed to float up to her ears, "you'll never know how much I needed to hear... to feel that..." he smiled at his inability to verbalize his feelings. "You always manage to render me speechless, Fräulein. How do you do that?"

"I speak from my heart, sir. It's all I have." Maria shrugged humbly.

"It's all you need, believe me."

As if responding to the genuine warmth in those words, Maria's heart started thumping in her chest. So loud, so hard, that she felt he had to hear it. Dropping her eyes shyly, she turned about and began to walk away.

Why did it hurt to leave? Why did it feel as if it was colder the further away she walked?

"Good morning to you too, Fräulein," the voice was so soft that Maria wondered if she had actually imagined it. She stopped and looked back at him.

He was smiling at her knowingly, with that vulnerable half-smile she found so endearing and felt so protective about.

She grinned at him, shaking her head. Then, she exited the room.

Halfway up the stairs, Maria looked down at her fingers. The fingers that had been tingling since he had released them from his grasp. She turned her hand into a fist and shuddered from head to foot.

In the small living room, Georg looked away from the door and took a deep, calming breath.

* * *

The children were particularly chatty over breakfast, something Georg appreciated. He didn't want to be alone with the dark thoughts that filled his mind today.

But the truth was that he had many reasons to be thankful. His gaze wandered from each of his children to his good friend Max, and to Elsa, sitting next to him, as beautiful and beguiling as ever. Finally, his eyes settled on Maria, who had just whispered something into Gretl's ear, and was pinching his youngest's nose, making her giggle happily.

Life and happiness were so fleeting and fragile. You could lose it all in a heartbeat, a lesson he had learned the hard way. But when he looked at his children, eternity was the only thought that came to mind.

'_Never alone.'_

Helplessly, his eyes turned again to Maria. He was still in awe of what had happened only a short while ago. The fierceness of her response, the way she had tried her utmost to comfort him, and _succeeded_.

There was something in that young woman he couldn't put his finger on. She looked both earthly and ethereal, strong and frail. She looked perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and also disturbingly vulnerable in her solitary existence of devotion and commitment. Something about that equation felt out of place, and he would give something to know what it was.

He felt equally drawn to that independence and that vulnerability. He felt like holding them close and giving them a safe haven, a purpose.

Despite those contradictions, her presence was so soothing. There was light wherever she was. He felt so much peace when she was near. His perpetual inner turmoil calmed, and he found himself floating in warm waters, wanting to immerse himself in them.

Georg smiled privately. It was high time he honoured his many blessings the way they deserved. He put his napkin aside and addressed the table with unfeigned enthusiasm.

"What do you say to a trip to town this morning?" he asked. His voice seemed to echo in the dining room.

Everybody looked at him and for a moment, Georg wondered if he had grown another head.

"Does that trip include me?" Max was the first to speak.

"But of course, Max," Georg replied, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. "What would we do without our favourite sponge?" Beside him, Elsa chuckled.

Max shot him a bitter look, but recovering nicely, he smoothed his moustache.

"That's so very kind of you, Georg. I had planned to continue exploring this territory, and you'll spare me the transport."

"I'm offended," Georg put his hand over his heart. "You just demoted me from Captain to taxi driver."

"Excuse me, sir," Maria's voice intruded softly. "Will you be back for lunch?"

"That's my intention," Georg smiled at her, "unless you have something else in mind."

"Me?" Maria's eyebrows arched in surprise.

"My proposal includes everybody at this table, Fräulein."

"Really?!" a chorus of excited child voices resounded in the room.

Georg looked at the hopeful faces of his children, realizing that despite his emotional openness and displays of affection, his children were still in awe of any gesture that included them in their father's life, that made them a part of his world.

He decided right then and there to dispel those lingering fears for good, no matter how long it took. He adopted a serious stance.

"You are the most important thing in my life. You _are_ my life," he stressed the word, leaving no room for doubt. "Don't you _ever_ forget that," he looked at each of his children individually, a shadow of his old sternness surfacing again, only in a way that felt anything but stern.

Spurred on by her father's vehemence, Marta let out a squeal of joy, and jumping from her chair, she clung to his neck, making Georg let out a short laugh as he returned her embrace. His eyes met Maria's at the end of the table. She was smiling at the sight, clearly moved by it. She nodded at him. Georg nodded back.

Elsa looked at the scene unfolding before her eyes, with a blending of surprise and slight unease.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	6. Chapter 6

Everybody gathered together in the hall, ready to begin their impromptu trip to town. Only when they were out in the courtyard did they realize that eleven people would never fit in the car, no matter how hard they tried. Maria suggested taking the older siblings by bus, but then the younger ones protested, claiming they wanted to accompany Fräulein Maria too.

In the end, Georg, Elsa and Max took the car, and Maria and the children took the bus, agreeing to meet in Residenz Square.

Once reunited, the group started a leisurely walk, looking at the shop windows and street stalls, lost in the merry bustle of city life. Soon enough, Max strayed when he heard a choir singing in the distance. When Georg informed him that it was St. Ignatius Choir, he uttered a simple "Bye" and disappeared down the street, much to Georg's chagrin and the others' amusement.

Turning a corner, the little girls burst into an "ooohhh" of sheer rapture. A big shop window with a vast array of cuddly toys on display appeared before their eyes, and they plastered their little noses to the window, completely smitten by them.

Georg observed his daughters with an indulgent little smile on his face, when Elsa, who was holding on to his arm, drew his attention to a shop of haute couture directly opposite the toy shop, displaying the most exquisite, sophisticated evening dresses. She urged him to come inside and see if she could find a gown that put her Vienna couturier to shame.

The ghost of a look of irritation crossed Georg's eyes for a heartbeat, and Maria noticed it. It was obvious that her employer's intention was spending some quality time with his children and his future wife like a family, getting to know each other and enjoying each other's company. Shopping clearly wasn't what he had in mind, especially if it meant they had to split up. But one look at the Baroness told Maria that buying a dress wasn't the only reason why she wanted to enter the shop. She needed to have some time alone with her future husband.

Looking around, she spotted a terrace at the end of the street.

"Captain, we can wait for you on that terrace," she pointed at it. "We've been walking for some time now, and I'm sure the children feel like having a refreshment."

"I do!" Kurt quickly stepped forward, a big smile on his face.

Georg looked at Maria for a short, intense moment, and then his gaze softened. He nodded at her gratefully.

"It won't be long," he assured them.

Maria nodded back and turned to the children.

"Come on, children!" she encouraged them enthusiastically. "Have you decided what you want to have?"

"I want an apple strudel with strawberry juice!" Kurt replied excitedly. "Or maybe..."

"Remember that you must leave some room in your stomach for lunch," Maria reminded him while ruffling his hair.

"But I'm very hungry!" Kurt protested.

Georg watched them go with a smile on his face. Turning to Elsa, he offered his arm and escorted her inside. Just before entering the shop, he cast a last look at the retreating group. His children's governess was the last thing his eyes lingered on before walking in.

* * *

"I thought Father would buy us something," Marta said, putting her empty glass on the table.

"Don't you have enough cuddly toys already?" Friedrich asked his sister teasingly.

"You never have enough cuddly toys!" Gretl exclaimed.

"The kitten in the shop was soooo cute!" Marta sighed dreamily.

Maria smiled to herself and turned to the little ones.

"I'm certain that your father will buy you whatever you want if you ask him, but that's not the reason why he asked you to accompany him today."

"Then why did he do it?" Kurt asked after swallowing the last mouthful of apple strudel.

"Because he wants to spend some time with you and Baroness Schraeder as a family," Maria said softly.

"The Baroness is so dull!" Louisa rolled her eyes much like her father. "Everything about her is fake."

"Louisa!" Maria reprimanded the teenager, shocked by the hostility in her voice.

"But it's true," Louisa protested, straightening up in her seat. "Her tone of voice is so... so..."

"Languid," Brigitta supplied.

"Exactly," Louisa nodded at her sister. "It's absolutely cloying! And have you seen how she's constantly calling Father 'darling'? 'Darling', this, 'Darling', that. Father is the only thing she cares about. She wants him all to herself. We're nothing but a nuisance to her."

"Now I think you're being unfair..." Maria began.

"Fräulein Maria, you can't deny that she hardly notices us," Liesl intruded with her soft voice, that made it almost impossible to refute her words. "We have nothing in common with her. She doesn't like children, it's plain to see."

"Yes!"

"That's it!"

"She doesn't like us!" a chorus of voices agreed wholeheartedly.

"I think she doesn't know how to relate to you. She doesn't have any children of her own," Maria tried to reason.

"Neither do you," Louisa pointed out. "But you _do_ like us."

"She feels a bit uncomfortable around you. It happens to some people. They have difficulties finding a common ground with children. You have to help her see you. See how sweet, funny and charming you are. That'll break the ice."

"I'm not sure," Louisa crossed her arms, sulking.

"You have to try," Maria insisted, "she's going to be your new mother. You all will have to adapt to each other, and that won't happen if you don't try your hardest. I'm sure everything will be fine if you give her a chance."

A thick silence followed, but Maria could feel a reluctant acceptance of her words.

"Can I go and take a walk?" Louisa asked all of a sudden, rising to her feet.

Caught off guard, it took Maria a few seconds to reply.

"All right, but stay where I can see you," she advised her.

"I'll go with you," Friedrich said, standing up too.

Maria watched the two siblings go, clearly discussing the matter, until they stopped on the opposite sidewalk and started window-shopping distractedly while still engaged in their lively discussion. Looking around her, she could see that the children's mood had dampened considerably.

* * *

Georg felt like he wanted to be anywhere else but there. Things weren't going the way they should. He didn't know what he expected when he introduced Elsa to his children, but certainly not this. As time went by, it was becoming clear that they weren't warming to each other. He had expected some awkwardness on both sides until everything fell into place, but after a tentative start, it was as if every party had settled for maintaining the status quo.

Elsa was full of life. She was witty, funny, imbued with a _joie de vivre_ that was contagious. It was what had brought him back to life when he had resigned himself to simply exist. She shone in Vienna, she was the life and soul of the party. Her charm and sophistication found a perfect backdrop there.

He had hoped that spark would find a good catalyst in his children and, in time...

But it hadn't happened that way. Elsa was different. The children were different. _He _was different.

Everything was different.

As he walked around the shop, waiting for Elsa to try on the fifth evening dress, he engaged in some thorough soul-searching.

He had changed. He wasn't the same man who had sought shelter from his pain and his memories in Vienna and its light and gay way of life. It was what he had needed _at the time_. Superficial conversations, drowning his sorrows in champagne, and good friends who understood his abrupt silences and his sudden staring into nowhere.

"I found it, Georg!"

Shaking himself out of his musings, Georg turned about and saw Elsa walking up to him in an absolutely stunning gown. Gold, with a square neckline and tiny straps that revealed her shoulders, and an exuberant white lace adornment on the front of her left shoulder that also covered the front of the dress. His face animated at the joy on her face.

"Indeed," he praised as she turned, showing it off. "You look ravishing, Elsa."

"Thank you, darling. You know how to flatter a woman," she smiled at him with a mischievous look in her eyes.

"Practice makes perfect," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"Oh, you brute," she mock-slapped his arm and he laughed out loud. "I'm going to change now... but I hope to be wearing it again soon," she added, giving him a knowing look.

Georg nodded and watched her go with a smile. When she was out of sight, the smile disappeared from his lips.

What was the reason for this sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach? He looked away, trying to clear his mind. Something was floating in the air today, and he found it... unsettling.

Shaking his head, he continued walking the shop, looking at the gorgeous dresses and material. Reaching out, he touched the expensive fabrics: silk, satin, velvet, finding the feel of them somehow soothing. Suddenly, he froze on the spot. Before him, the most beautiful material he remembered seeing, stood out above everything surrounding it, above everything else in the shop. It was lovely in its sweet simplicity, and he felt it between his fingers, convincing himself that it was real. Its soft and rich shade of blue made it feel as if it was alive. The flower motifs scattered all over brought a smile to his face.

"Lovely, isn't it?" the shop assistant came out of nowhere, right beside him.

"Precisely the word I had in mind," Georg nodded, unable to stop touching it.

"Deluxe silk organza," the woman said, unrolling the fabric and showing it to him in daylight. "Imported from France."

"The feel of it is..." Georg murmured, almost trembling. Clearing his throat, he tried to compose himself.

"We've had it for some time now, but no one bothered to buy it," the woman said with a small sigh of disappointment. "I guess it's not... sophisticated enough for our regular customers." She tilted her head to one side with a little smile. "I know this will sound foolish, but I like to think that all my material is waiting for the right person to find it. The one person that'll recognize the special beauty of it, and _know_ it's exactly what they need."

Georg withdrew into himself for a few seconds, and nodded to himself.

"They did," he just said.

* * *

"Uncle Max!" Marta's face lit up when she saw the man walking up to their table.

Everybody turned their heads and greeted him warmly.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Warming up for lunch?" he said jokingly, pinching softly Gretl's cheek.

"Sit down and have something!" Kurt invited.

"I think I will," Max said, pulling back a chair and sitting down on it. "Where's our favourite philanthropist and his captivating Baroness?" he asked.

"Shopping," Maria replied, pointing at the haute couturier's.

"That's our Georg," Max smiled widely. "He can't deny anything to the people he cares about." He sighed. "That man has the biggest heart I've ever seen. And I'm so lucky to fit in it!" he sprawled out in his seat, making everybody chuckle.

Right then, loud voices made them look up. Friedrich and Louisa were running up to them, crying out something.

"You have to come and see this!" Friedrich said when he reached the table.

"See what?" everybody asked.

"There's the most amazing puppet show in that shop over there," Louisa said, pointing at the farthest corner. "They have puppet people and animals. They have the cutest goats I've seen in my life!"

"It must be Professor Kohner's," Max said, looking in the direction Louisa indicated.

"Oh, please, Fräulein Maria!"

"Can we go and see it?"

"Please, please!"

"I'll accompany them," Max said to Maria with a smile, rising to his feet.

Maria smiled back.

"I'll look after the table," she nodded at him.

Once alone, Maria looked around her instinctively, as if looking for something or someone. Without the children, she felt as if she had no purpose, and truly didn't know what to do. She took a sip of her lemonade and crossed her arms on the table.

"What a pretty young lady," a slurred male voice said, making her whip her head up to the side. A ragged and visibly inebriated middle-aged man walked up to the table, leaning his hands on it.

Maria tensed involuntarily, but tried to cover it with a polite smile.

"Would you have a few coins to give a poor man, who's had nothing to eat for two days?" the man asked, bending forward.

Maria took in his unshaven state, his dishevelled hair, the dirt under his too long fingernails and his smell of alcohol. Drawing back a little, she made a sincerely apologetic face.

"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't bring any money."

"But dear lady, you wouldn't be having a lemonade if you couldn't pay for it," the man reasoned, edging ever closer, and practically blowing his fetid breath of alcohol on her face.

Realizing that even if she explained the situation to him, he still wouldn't believe her, Maria looked around out of the corner of her eye. The few people sitting at the surrounding tables didn't seem to notice her plight.

"I really don't have any money, sir," she repeated. "I'm very sorry."

"That's not a very clever thing to say," the man said, shaking his head and leaning on the table so heavily that he moved it against Maria, who jerked back in reaction. "Especially from a beautiful woman sitting all alone, without any protection," his speech was suddenly clearer, and clearly threatening. He let out an ugly smile, revealing decaying, yellow teeth, and got unbearably close.

Maria moved back as far as her seat allowed, her heart beginning to pound in her chest. She didn't want to make a scene, but that man was giving her no choice. She prepared to defend herself if he got a centimetre closer.

"She _has_ protection," a menacing, familiar voice said right behind the man, startling them both.

Maria's relief knew no bounds when she saw the Captain standing there, poised in his full height, the expression on his face as dangerous as the sound of his voice.

"I advise you to put as much distance as possible between yourself and this lady, if you don't want to sober up much too soon," Georg's stance and his stony look were a dead giveaway as to what would happen if the man didn't comply immediately.

"Certainly, sir," the tramp backed off with surprising speed. But then, in a thoroughly foolhardy move, he tried to provoke Georg. "You wouldn't have a few coins to spare, by any chance?" he asked, a definite glint of defiance in his bloodshot eyes.

Georg's lips curved into a nasty smile. He stepped forward until he was practically nose-to-nose with the drunk.

"Don't push your luck." The clipped tone of voice sounded like a final warning.

The man cast Georg a mocking smile and staggered away at a slow, unhurried pace.

Maria brought up one hand to her face, letting out a small sigh. Now that everything was over, the tension left her body in a rush, leaving it all shaky and a little bit queasy.

"Are you all right, Fräulein?" Georg walked up to Maria, enough for her to feel his closeness.

"Yes, I'm fine, sir," Maria nodded, trying to project a calm façade.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm a bit nervous, but it'll pass." She looked up at him, radiating gratitude. "Thank you, Captain," she said from the bottom of her heart.

Georg smiled down at her affectionately and shook his head.

"How fortunate that we arrived here when we did!" Elsa exclaimed, approaching them now that it was safe. Her voice showed that the scene she and Georg had encountered, had upset her greatly. "Are you truly all right, my dear? What a disturbing incident!"

"I'm fine now. Thank you, Baroness," Maria smiled at her with a nod.

"Where did everybody go?" Georg asked then, looking around. He had just realized that his children were nowhere to be seen.

"The children left with Herr Detweiler," Maria explained. "They wanted to see a puppet show on display in one of the shop windows. Professor Kohner's, I think."

"I see," Georg nodded, studying Maria's face closely to verify she was getting her colour back. "Well, we'd better check on them," he said, taking out his wallet and paying Maria and the children's refreshments. "Who knows what they'll be up to!"

"Oh, Georg, you worry too much." Elsa put her hand on the Captain's arm and patted it. "Your children know how to behave."

"I know," Georg held the back of Maria's chair while she stood up. "It's Max that scares me."

Maria's low chuckle at his crack reassured Georg that she was going to be fine.

* * *

It was almost dinner time, and Maria was getting ready to come down. As she finished combing her short hair, she stared at her reflection in the mirror, turning over the events of the day in her mind.

It hadn't been a particularly hectic day, quite the contrary. But for some reason, it couldn't hold a candle to the days when the children exhausted her physically. Tonight, she felt _emotionally_ exhausted.

And the Captain was the cause.

Now that the day was almost over, one would think that she could put behind the revelation that finding him so upset and vulnerable had been to her. Instead, he wouldn't leave her thoughts.

There was something about that man that was beyond Maria to explain. To understand, even. And it all came down to the simple fact that she always felt welcomed in his presence. More than that. She felt appreciated, valued. Everything she had to say was taken into consideration, her opinion truly mattered and was even actively sought.

But what had happened that morning was just incredible. That such a man had turned to _her_ for reassurance was incredible. All right, there hadn't been anyone else available at the time, but still...

There was something very unorthodox about Captain von Trapp. For an aristocrat, he didn't seem to care about conventions, about what society considered proper or acceptable. He treated his employees like... well, like people who worked for him. He commanded people's respect because he was the first to respect them.

He was warm, and kind, and with the deepest feelings she had ever encountered. He cared about things and people so deeply that it was almost frightening. For the first time, Maria understood, _really_ understood what had made him withdraw into himself when his wife died. With such depth of feeling, the loss of someone so dear must have been beyond unbearable. It must have hurt so much that hadn't he detached himself from his feelings, he would have lost his mind. And the longer the withdrawal had lasted, the greater testimony to this man's capacity to love, to give himself completely to his love, in heart and soul.

Maria felt as if a knife was slashing through her chest. Being the recipient of such a man's affection had to be overwhelming, all-consuming. Her heart skipped a beat when she remembered that was what she had felt that morning, when she had tried to comfort him. It _had been_ overwhelming. But she felt made better somehow because of it. For the first time in her life, she'd felt like she had something to give.

Today had been different in so many ways. She had seen so many sides of him, and all of them were to be treasured. His angry side, his vulnerable side, his ironical side, his strong and gentlemanly side. And all of them said so much about the kind of person he was.

Everything about Captain von Trapp was to be respected, and protected. She prayed that Baroness Schraeder was aware of how blessed she was. To be responsible for this man's happiness and peace of mind... there couldn't be a greater honour.

The knife seemed to be twisting in her chest, and she brought up one hand to it, trying to make the pain stop. It wasn't a physical pain, but it was just as intense. She couldn't find a word for it and all the same, her eyes misted with its power.

The sudden knock on her door made her start. She cleared her throat, blinked several times and left the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

"Come in," she invited, taking a deep breath.

The door opened and Frau Schmidt walked in.

"I see you're ready for dinner," she observed with a smile.

"Almost," Maria nodded.

"This is for you," the housekeeper said. "It just arrived, along with Baroness Schraeder's gown."

Only then, Maria looked down and saw the piece of material Frau Schmidt was holding out to her. Her eyes opened wide at the sight of the most breathtakingly beautiful material she had ever laid eyes on. It was the richest, loveliest shade of blue, and the moment she touched it, she knew the quality of it was beyond everything she had ever been close to.

"I-It's... organza! Silk organza!" she stuttered.

Frau Schmidt nodded with a smile on her face, enjoying Maria's astonished expression.

"Coming up with a design that does justice to such exquisite material will be a challenge," she said. "But you'll have a flash of inspiration, I'm sure."

Maria just stared at the material she had just been handed, unable to think of anything coherent to say.

"B-But how...? Why...?" she managed to articulate.

"I guess it's the Captain's way of saying 'thank you' to the person who's done so much for him and his family." Frau Schmidt inched a little bit closer and spoke to her in a confidential manner. "And if I may say so, the Captain's giving voice to everybody's sentiments in this household." Her smile now was unequivocally grateful.

Maria looked into the older woman's eyes, feeling the tightness in her chest return, only differently.

"Thank you for saying that, but I did nothing," she said in a hoarse voice. "I only yelled at him."

Frau Schmidt laughed wholeheartedly at that.

"That's good. There had been too many years of silence."

Maria smiled sadly and nodded, knowing how much brutally repressed pain had lurked behind those walls. And it felt as if all that pain was hitting her squarely at that very moment. She looked down.

"Now, I'll see you downstairs." Frau Schmidt noticed that Maria's emotions were very close to the surface, and patting her arm fondly, she left the room.

Maria stood where she was, looking at the precious material in her arms, too bewildered to react. Did the Captain really have her in such esteem? In such regard as to...?

She slumped down on her bed and moved her hands all over that lovely smoothness, almost shuddering at the feel of it. Shakily, she began to unroll the material to get a better look at it. Her actions revealed a small envelope that had been put under the first layers of the cloth. She stared at it for a few moments, hesitant to do anything but look.

Finally, she reached out and with unsteady fingers, opened it. Inside, there was a short, signed note, written in the most elegant handwriting.

'_When you can't find the words, maybe actions speak louder.'_

Maria read the words over and over until they got blurry. She bit her lower lip in wonder, in sheer disbelief. Once again, her mind began to replay the events of the day in fast, bright flashes, until she had to close her stinging eyes against them and the feelings they evoked.

And for the first time, she thanked the Reverend mother for sending her there. If she had contributed, even in the smallest way, to help that complex, gentle soul to find its way again, then she had achieved far more than she'd ever hoped for.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	7. Chapter 7

The children were amazed by the beauty of the material when Maria showed it to them the next morning. Immediately, all the girls started giving Maria suggestions on the type of dress she could make with it. A short-sleeved one, a V-necked one with frills, tailored and with - or without - a blue sash...

Maria smiled at so much enthusiasm. She had several ideas in mind, and she asked the children to be patient. She wanted to do this precious material justice, and she'd rather wait to come up with the perfect design. Their father's sweet, thoughtful gift deserved no less.

* * *

During breakfast, the Captain was reminded by Louisa that he still owed them a picnic. Georg agreed that he did owe it to them, and since he always kept his promises he would therefore accompany them the next day. The children cheered happily, and started throwing ideas around about what they could do once up in the mountains.

"Will... Will you accompany us, Baroness?" Liesl asked all of a sudden, turning to Elsa who was sitting beside her.

Elsa almost choked on her tea, but recovering nicely, she wiped her lips with her napkin in an impeccable manner.

"I'm afraid not, my dear," she said. "I have phone calls to make and letters to write to my girlfriends in Vienna," she softened her negative with a perfectly apologetic smile that looked too perfect. "Besides, I wouldn't know what to do up in the hills, other than climbing trees, and I didn't bring the necessary accoutrements."

Georg cleared his throat pointedly at that.

"But you can bring a little bunch of Edelweiss, like you did that other time. Will you?" Elsa hurried to add, smiling at Gretl across the table.

The little child nodded with a big grin.

Liesl returned to her breakfast, exchanging a quick look with her siblings. Lastly, she met Maria's eyes, a loud 'told you so' written all over her face.

"And you, uncle Max?" Friedrich asked then. "Will you come?"

Max's eyes opened wide at the invitation.

"Ah, I don't think so. I'm too old to play football, tag and skip. I'd lie down after lunch and sleep through the day." He looked at Georg. "Besides, it's your time with your father. Enjoy yourselves," he winked at his friend. "I'll have a grand time raiding the cellar and calling Paris and Rome."

"Thank you for the warning," Georg smiled drily.

* * *

It turned out to be a rainy day, so the children studied for a few hours until lunchtime. Halfway through the evening, Franz entered the living room and told the Captain that the 'special delivery' had just arrived. Georg nodded and left the room, closing the doors after him.

Everybody looked at each other and ended up shrugging. Maria smiled to herself, beginning to suspect what all the secrecy was about. The children had begged their father for the puppet show the day before. The Captain had entered the shop accompanied by Max, and spoken to Professor Kohner, but when they exited and he told everybody to go, he had the straightest face Maria had ever seen. The children were immediately silenced by their father's bearing, and not another word was spoken about it. Now, as he was closing the doors, his eyes met Maria's briefly, and the mischievous gleam in them cried out that he was up to something. And it didn't take a genius to figure out what it was.

It was half an hour until he returned, and he could hardly hide the smile that wanted to break out. Their eyes met again, and Maria covered her mouth with her hand and looked down, trying to not give herself away.

Georg took his place by the window and began to read the evening paper casually. Everybody resumed their leisure activities, but Maria's curiosity was very much piqued now by her employer's attitude, and she began to steal furtive glances in his direction. Georg noticed it and ended up chuckling.

"All right, all right, Fräulein," he said at last, putting the paper on the table and rising to his feet. "You'll end up burning a hole in my head."

Maria flushed and looked down, but when she raised her eyes to his, he was smiling at her affectionately.

Georg walked up to the doors and opened them. The doors of the ballroom directly in front across the hall were also open, and a magnificent picture appeared before their eyes. The children burst into a collective gasp, followed by uncontrollable shrieks of joy, as they jumped to their feet and sprinted for the ballroom.

The puppet show was already impressive in the shop window, but the sheer size of it stood out even more in that enormous ballroom. On the stage lay the puppets of three goats and a baby goat, a young man and a young girl, an older woman, a bearded prince, a waiter holding several beer mugs, two customers with napkins around their necks and forks and knives in their hands, two climbers, three musicians playing the French horn, the tuba and the clarinet, and three couples cheek to cheek. All of them waiting for a few pairs of skilled hands to bring them to life.

After taking in the awesome view, the children quickly made for the puppets, but their father was faster. Swiftly placing himself between the puppet show and his children, he raised his hand.

"You have to promise one thing first to keep it," he said, in all seriousness.

The children looked at each other questioningly.

"What do we have to promise, Father?" Liesl asked for them all.

"You have to perform a big number with all the puppets. I want to hear your beautiful voices again." His eyes raised to Maria. "And that includes yours, Fräulein."

Open-eyed, Maria nodded awkwardly.

"Well... Of course, sir. We'll do our best. Right, children?"

The children agreed enthusiastically, thanking their father over and over for his incredible gift.

"Don't thank me, thank uncle Max," Georg said. "I was very hesitant, but he called Professor Kohner behind my back and spent the whole evening trying to convince me that I would love having this..." he turned to the immense puppet show, "monster thing in my house. But most of all, that _you_ would love having it and make the most of it. Sooo..." he shrugged in resignation.

The children turned to Max then and squeezed the stuffing out of him with big hugs and outrageous shows of affection, to the man's embarrassment.

Georg smiled to himself. It looked like the puppet show was already paying off.

* * *

Before going to sleep that night, Maria started to think about what kind of number the children and she could perform with the puppets, what kind of song would be the most appropriate. The answer was so plainly obvious that it took only a couple of seconds to reveal itself. Yodel. Yodel would be just _perfect_. She would have to work hard with the children's voices, but she had no doubt that they would soon get the hang of it. They were natural for singing. Not to mention it would impress the Captain, and that had been her employer's sole condition. Yes, the children would give a performance to remember. Even the first notes of a simple tune were already coming together...

With the beginnings of the little tune turning around in her mind she promptly fell asleep.

* * *

The children were so excited about the prospect of having a picnic with their father, that they woke up sooner than ever. They had breakfast and were ready to go in a trice.

Maria was thoroughly surprised by the Captain's attire when he came down. He wore a cream-coloured flannel shirt, a light green flannel tie, brown pants whose calves disappeared inside brown boots, and a green jacket with wide, darker green lapels. She couldn't help staring at him, adjusting mentally to his informal outfit. Georg noticed her innocent scrutiny and bowed gallantly, putting on the same hat he had worn the evening he went to pick them up when Gretl was sick. Maria cleared her throat and recovering quickly, tipped an invisible hat to him in salute, a glint of humour in her eyes.

When they went out to the courtyard, the same problem they had faced two days before arose again: how to fit in the car. Feeling playful, they decided to challenge the space in the automobile and tried several variations, until they found the right combination. Maria in the front seat with Gretl and Marta in her lap, and their siblings squeezed in the back seat. Everybody was giggling and nudging each other's ribs with their elbows when Georg started the car.

The trip to the Untersberg was uneventful and jolly. Within an hour of their departure they reached the top, and got ready to spend a lovely day in each other's company.

Maria spread a couple blankets on the grass and with the help of the children, got some snacks ready. After that, everybody indulged in their favourite pastimes. Liesl and Gretl engaged in their customary card games, Brigitta and Marta got busy testing each other's endurance skipping, the boys moved aside to throw the ball safely, and Louisa simply lay down on the second blanket, propping her head on one of the baskets, a handful of sunflower seeds in hand, quietly enjoying the scenery.

When Maria had everything ready, she sat cross-legged on the first blanket, watching over the children as she always did.

Feeling somewhat lost, Georg walked up to Maria and sat down next to her. He dragged one knee up and rested his arm on it, looking around.

"It's been a very long time."

There was a world of meaning behind those words, and Maria felt it. She turned her head and looked at him with a fond smile.

"Not that long, Captain," she raised an eyebrow pointedly.

"True," Georg smiled back at her, his face lighting up at the memory. His eyes swept around his surroundings and he took a deep breath. "So, is this what you usually do when you come up here?"

"Mostly, yes," Maria nodded. "We play, we sing, we talk... we even study."

"_Study_?" Georg's eyes opened like two saucers at that. He doubted his children felt like dedicating even a smidgeon of their time here studying.

Maria nodded emphatically.

"Can you think of a better place for some practical lessons on geography?"

Georg looked around again and ended up nodding in agreement. From their vantage point and all around them, they could see the mountains in all their timeless glory. At their feet, a landscape of infinite shades of green covered valley after valley. Water flowed in intricate patterns and above them, scattered cotton clouds crossed their line of vision lazily.

"You'd have no trouble making an algebra lesson enjoyable, Fräulein," he praised sincerely, turning his head to her.

"Hardly, sir. I was never good at Mathematics." Maria made a grimace.

"Oh," Georg grimaced back at her. "It's all right," he said, lowering his voice. "I'll keep your secret."

"But I won't," Louisa's voice floated up to them.

"Don't you know that it's bad manners to eavesdrop, Louisa?" Georg mock-chided his daughter.

"I'm not eavesdropping. I can hear you perfectly from here," the girl countered, sitting up and beginning to rummage around in Brigitta's small backpack. She produced the book her sister was currently reading. Aesop's tales. A bit sentimental, but it could be interesting. "Go on, keep talking," she said to her father and her governess, "I'm going to read now." Making a show of turning her back on them, Louisa propped her head up on her hand and true to her word, began to read.

Maria and Georg looked at each other and a helpless smile broke out on their faces. Shaking their heads, they looked down.

A few minutes passed in a companionable silence. Minutes in which the smile gradually disappeared from Georg's lips as he watched his children absorbed in their chosen activities. Activities that didn't include him as they once had, long ago. So long ago that the little ones couldn't even remember.

"I feel out of place," he softly confessed, all of a sudden. His children had been used to being on their own for so many vital years that now he felt totally incidental to their lives. He looked away. Lost years, lost opportunities that would never return. And all his fault.

Maria's heart ached at the blunt admission. She couldn't think of any other words that conveyed better the feeling of failure, and it hurt more when those words came from a parent. But before she could say anything, a ball rolled up to them and hit Georg's feet. Kurt and Friedrich were tired of throwing the ball and had started knocking the ball about. And, as it often happens, the ball escaped their control.

Georg reached out and took the leather ball in his hands, feeling it. His mind suddenly filled with memories of his childhood and teenage years. Happy, carefree times when the world seemed a happier, simpler place.

Friedrich walked up to them.

"I'm sorry, Father," he said. "It was my fault."

Georg gazed up at his oldest son, and his earnest apology pulled at his heartstrings. He looked down at the ball and on a sudden impulse, he looked at Maria who, as if she had read his thoughts, gave him a sharp, eager nod and a big smile. Her eyes sparkled.

"I think you and your brother have a couple lessons to learn, and who better to learn them from than from a master?" he boasted, rising to his feet. Turning briefly to Maria, he winked at her. Maria shook her head with a chuckle, and set out to watch something that not even in her dreams had she thought she'd ever see.

After so many years out of practice, Georg started out very rusty, but in a matter of minutes, he was kicking the ball and dribbling like a professional, or so it seemed to Maria and Georg's flabbergasted daughters. Being bigger and brawnier than his sons, Georg had the upper hand at the beginning, but he soon eased up and allowed Kurt and Friedrich to steal the ball from him every now and then.

Maria looked around her and had to smile at the sight of the Captain's girls staring at their father, their mouths hanging open, unable to believe their eyes. She could have pricked them with the proverbial needle and they wouldn't have bled.

Admittedly, she was just as astounded. Here before her was Baron Von Trapp, an aristocrat, a composed man in almost any circumstance, having a knockabout with his sons.

It suddenly dawned on her that it actually wasn't Captain von Trapp, decorated hero of the Imperial Navy in front of her, but Georg von Trapp, the Father.

And it was the most beautiful sight in the world.

Her heart warmed in a totally new, unexpected way. She felt a blending of respect and bashfulness looking at him, as if she was witnessing something she had no right to see. A private family moment. A dignified grown man letting his hair down, trying to compensate his children for all his past mistakes and wrongdoings, that had caused so much pain.

Yet, she only had to look at the wonder and pride shining in his daughters' eyes, and the bubbling, breathless joy in Kurt and Friedrich's faces as they struggled to steal the ball from their father's feet, to know that all those past mistakes and wrongdoings were long forgotten.

After a lengthy, exhilarating knockabout that culminated in three rounds of penalty kicks, using two rocks to mark the goal, Georg called it quits, and, grooming his hair with his hands, returned to the blankets to catch his breath, beside Gretl and Liesl. He took off his jacket and with hardly a break, proceeded to show his daughters how to play poker, betting sunflower seeds. By the time he returned to Maria's side, she was staring at him like she was having a hard time recognizing him.

"Shocked, Fräulein?" he asked with an impish smile, eating the fruits of his gambling success.

"In the nicest possible way," was all Maria managed to say.

"Why, thank you!" Georg looked genuinely pleased. "I'm glad you approve of my less-than-ladylike teachings to my daughters."

"You can never know too much," Maria said solemnly. "But have no fear. I don't think they'll start gambling the family jewels now," she cracked, making a goofy face to soften the impact of her bold joke.

Georg just burst out laughing.

* * *

Lunchtime arrived soon after, and the family gathered together around the two baskets and enjoyed a leisurely meal, having a little bit of everything that was served in small plates all over the blankets.

Kurt took a final sip of juice and flopped down on his back on the grass, patting his stomach. As far as he was concerned, everything was all right in the world. He burped inwardly, and with a deep intake of breath, prepared himself to drift off watching the clouds pass by.

"Kurt," his father's voice drew him out of his pleasant languor. "Come here and help us clear the blankets."

The boy obeyed with a short moan of protest. When everything had been put away, he turned to his governess.

"Can we lie down and have a nap, Fräulein Maria?" he asked eagerly.

Georg's eyebrows skyrocketed at his son's request.

"If you want, go ahead," Maria said, almost chuckling.

Instantly, all seven von Trapp children were lying on their backs, finding the most comfortable positions to have a little, restorative snooze.

Georg looked around, refusing to believe what he was seeing. In just a few minutes, his seven children were dozing.

"Indeed, seeing is believing," he muttered to himself.

"I know," Maria said with a smile, taking her guitar from her case and beginning to play softly. She had noticed that soft background music helped the children to reach a deeper sleep. "There's something about the mountains that's very soothing. It whets the appetite and calms the soul." Her eyes turned to her employer, warm and kind. "A nap after lunch would be unthinkable at home. I mean the villa."

"And you don't sleep here too?" Georg asked, getting lost in her gaze.

"No, not really. I only fell asleep twice, and always later in the evening. I spend the time watching over them, playing the guitar a little and... just dreaming away."

"About what?"

"Nothing in particular," Maria shrugged. "About the things we'll do when they wake up, thinking up new games..."

"Ah, so that explains why your mind is a fountain of creativity," Georg smiled. "This is where you get your inspiration from."

Maria let out a little laugh.

"Every new day is a challenge, Captain. I have to be prepared." She looked up at the sky, studying it once more. She never got tired of turning her eyes to the heavens and wondering at the immensity of God's might.

Georg observed her profile, the look of innocent wonderment on her face, and his heart began to pound savagely. It wasn't the first time it happened to him when looking at her, but it had never been this strong, this overwhelming.

Just then, her face turned to him and when their eyes met, she gave him the sweetest, most open of all the smiles she had ever given him. Her features radiated light and joy.

"Thank you for today, sir. You made your children so happy!" her eyes danced all over his face, and Georg felt as if they were caressing him. He shuddered inside.

"You..." he swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, "you really care about my children, don't you?" he experienced a strange pain at his own words, but what kind of pain, he couldn't say.

Maria blushed and looked down.

"Yes," she uttered softly. "They're so loving and caring. So honest in their affection... I love being with them, spending time with them. Every new day is like a new, wonderful adventure. And I'm so fortunate that they allowed me into their world, their dreams..."

"That's because you allowed them into yours," Georg said, with uncanny perception. "They love being with you. They adore you, Fräulein. This is the first time they've opened up to another since their mother died. And it's beautiful to see."

Moved to her very core by those words, Maria stopped her soft strumming and looked down, biting her lower lip.

"It's a new experience for me," she muttered.

"What?" Georg asked with infinite tenderness.

"Feeling useful. Being... cared for," she almost choked on her words.

"You are, Fräulein," Georg said. "You are."

The intensity in his voice made Maria's head snap up and meet his eyes. They were so gentle that her insides constricted.

Georg tilted his head to one side and smiled.

Maria got lost in the beauty of the feelings he was stirring in her, unable to look away. For a fleeting second, she wished she could feel like that forever.

She didn't know for how long she lost track of time, but she blinked when she realized he was holding something out to her.

With slightly trembling fingers, she took the little yellow campanula Georg was offering.

"Thank you," was all she could say.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	8. Chapter 8

Maria had just put the children to bed, but instead of retiring, she felt the need to spend some time by herself, taking a short walk around the estate, enjoying the lovely evening and the still warm temperature.

Humming the chorus of the song for the puppet show she was still working on, she took in the reflection of the moon on the lake as she walked along the bank, until she reached the gazebo. The soft, white light provided by the elegant lamp posts scattered all over the property created an enchanting atmosphere, almost from another world. Leaning on the thick trunk of a big oak, she contemplated her surroundings, soaking up the immense feeling of peace. For some reason, she didn't want today to end.

With a small sigh, she walked up to the nearest bench and sat there, looking up at the stars above, trying to remember the names of the constellations she could see.

Just then, an incredibly beautiful male voice singing a melody that seemed as old as time reached her ears. Something about the song and especially the lyrics, filled Maria's heart with an eerie feeling of longing. She realized how long it had been since she had heard her employer sing. In fact, since that fateful day when he reconciled with his children. And she became aware of how much she had missed that voice. She closed her eyes, straining to hear.

A flower garden in the desert,

A candle lighting up the dark,

A fragrant breeze that warms my heart,

Precious angel, let me be

All these things you are to me

Maria's breath caught in her throat and she opened her eyes. She looked down at her interlaced fingers, trying not to choke on the feelings that rose from the depths of her being.

The soft baritone came closer and Maria looked up, just when Georg spotted her on the bench. His gentle crooning came to an abrupt halt.

"Oh, excuse me, Fräulein," he apologized. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

Maria stood up.

"You didn't, sir." She let out a shy smile.

"I thought you had retired," he said, walking up to her.

"The evening was so lovely that I just had to enjoy it a little longer," Maria's eyes swept around the vast grounds, unable to conceal the awe in her voice.

Georg smiled, and nodded.

"After an entire day dealing with seven excited children frolicking in the mountain, I understand your need to... reassert your individuality," he said fondly.

Maria couldn't help a smile at the way he phrased his statement. Georg met her eyes and gave her a one-armed shrug that she found endearing.

"May I?" he asked.

Maria blinked uncomprehendingly, but then she looked down at the bench.

"Oh, of course!" she said.

Georg remained standing, just smiling at her.

Understanding at last, Maria sat down. She looked up at him bashfully.

The smile never left Georg's lips as he took a seat beside her.

Together, they took in the beauty surrounding them, sharing a long, friendly silence.

"Is this very different from your life at the Abbey?" Georg suddenly asked. A part of him winced at the directness of his question. He didn't want her to think he was prying. But the truth was that he was very curious about it. He wanted to know what had led such a spirited, vibrant woman to seek a life of retreat and seclusion. The more he knew her the more _not right_ that decision felt to him. He just needed to understand.

"Very," Maria replied, totally unfazed by his question and meeting his eyes. "By breakfast I've already spoken more words here than the entire day at the Abbey."

Georg chuckled courteously, but he distinctly perceived some subtle meaning beneath those words. Indeed, many a true word is spoken in jest.

"Was it difficult for you getting used to... us?"

"Not at all," Maria said happily. "Quite the contrary. It's so gratifying to find a place where everything you have to say is taken into account."

Too late, Maria realized she had spoken without thinking first, and how her words must have sounded. She bit her lower lip for an instant before letting it go, berating herself inwardly.

"You're not valued at the Abbey?" Georg's keen insight didn't fail him. He looked honestly startled.

Collecting her thoughts with a deep intake of breath, Maria smiled and met his eyes calmly.

"I didn't enter the Abbey to be valued. I wanted to pursue a life of service and giving. Ego has no place there."

Georg stared deeply into her eyes, as if trying to see what she wasn't saying. Maria felt as if he was delving into the most intimate corners of her mind and soul, places she didn't want to be delved into, and she almost recoiled.

Immediately, Georg's gaze softened and his eyes regarded her with affection.

"It must be lonely," he simply said.

"Lonely?" Maria echoed, somewhat wistfully.

"The process of trying to fit in somewhere. The path must be full of self-doubt. Wondering if it's the life you were born to live."

Maria fought the impulse to close her eyes against the feelings that erupted inside her at those words. It was as if that man had reached into the crux of her deepest fears and misgivings, and voiced them. And now that they were out in the open, they were real and scarier than bottled up within.

Valiantly, she straightened up and defended her decision.

"But it's the struggle that makes the path worthwhile. We mustn't give up just because something is hard and difficult. We must persevere and one day, that life will be ours. Because we earned our right to it."

Georg looked at her in wide-eyed amazement, the passion in her words teaching him a valuable lesson. A lesson he seemed to have forgotten along the way. At that moment, he couldn't remember ever admiring anyone more.

"I have no doubt that you'll earn your right to the life you seek, Fräulein. No one deserves it more than you," he stated with the utmost sincerity. Something about her decision still didn't feel right, but he respected her determination and strength of character. He fervently hoped that the path she had chosen gave her existence the meaning she was clearly looking for.

Maria looked at him gratefully, taking a calming breath and nodding in acknowledgment of his acceptance.

* * *

"In the name of the Father, and the Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen."

Maria rose to her feet from her kneeling position by her bed. She looked around as if looking for something and raised her hand, sliding it through her almost dry hair. A part of her refused to settle down and in that condition, she would only twist and turn in bed.

She began to pace the room, resting her gaze on her few possessions adorning it. Her guitar case, her crucifix, her prayer book... Instinctively, she walked up to the table and put her hand on the book, feeling the soft, cool leather under her palm. On an impulse, she opened it and started turning pages as if looking for something. Suddenly, she came across the Captain's note. She stared at it for a little while and with a soft smile, she reached out and traced the elegant handwriting with her fingertips.

'_When you can't find the words, maybe actions speak louder'_

Lost in thought, she continued turning pages, and stopped again when she found the yellow campanula she had put there earlier. Reaching out once more, she touched the petals delicately.

Yes. Everything about Captain von Trapp was more about actions than words. He related to people in a way that actually reminded her of the Reverend Mother. Those inquisitive looks, that quietness that conquered all resistance. One single word, one simple gesture from them was enough to bring peace to one's mind. To _her_ mind.

Except now.

The Captain's words had verbalized the sneaking suspicion that had been tormenting her for some time now. Her incapacity to adapt to her life in the convent. She had tried. Lord knew she had! But sometimes, it hurt to think of her beloved mountains, the glorious sky scattered with clouds, the nature she had always felt so much a part of. It was almost a physical pain to be cut off from them.

The nuns' complaints about her shortcomings as a postulant also cut deep. Lately, their _rightful_ criticism had made her start to question issues she had never considered insurmountable. She knew she wasn't easy to live with. She was outspoken, loud... But she had thought that if she tried hard, if she did her best, she would eventually find her niche between those walls. For there was peace in them, and she was in so much need of peace!

Now she had found a place outside those walls where she was accepted, and respected. She was no trouble but someone useful, someone... valid. Her existence had a meaning. She could go to bed every night knowing she made a difference in the life of that family.

Did that mean that she would never make a good nun, then? When September came and she returned to the Abbey, would her experience as a governess here help in some way? In _any_ way?

And another issue she had also been avoiding for some time. When she returned to the Abbey, would she be able to pass without Gretl's morning hugs? Without Marta's toothy smiles? Brigitta's wit? Kurt's pranks? Louisa's dry humour? Friedrich's adorable awkwardness? Liesl's sweet friendship? Without the Captain's eyes and...?

She shuddered helplessly as the memory of her last moments with her employer that evening returned unbidden. Their conversation had been interrupted by a sudden shower, and halfway back to the house the rain was so heavy that they had to run for cover. When they were climbing up the steps she found herself under the Captain's jacket, and once safe inside they had stopped to catch their breath. Her hair was a mess, and the Captain's was definitely less tidy than usual. Suddenly, she became aware of how close to each other they stood. So close that she could feel the warmth of his body. She took in the unlikely sight of him in his shirt and tie, the shirt all plastered to his body. Something in her was deeply shaken by it and she looked up self-consciously, meeting his eyes. He was looking at her with an intensity that brought a shiver down her spine. As if noticing it, he smiled softly and reached out, brushing aside the mussed wet fringe on her forehead. It was the barest of touches, one she almost didn't feel, and yet the impact it had on her was brutal. She looked down and saw his jacket cascading down her shoulders. So big, so... protective. A part of her felt enlightened by some knowledge that she couldn't quite grasp.

After that, everything was a blur. She remembered hastily murmured good-nights and hurrying up to her room to dry and change.

Looking back now, she could tell what it had been. Human contact. Closeness. Belonging. Things she had craved for, for as long as she could remember. Feelings she had learned to live without, hoping they would be sublimated by God's love. Feelings she had known the morning he clasped her hand in his own. She would never forget the strong feeling of connection. The comfort she had found in that brief touch. As if the world had stopped spinning out of control and righted itself.

That man. Those children.

How would she live without them?

She closed her prayer book and padded back to the bed, getting in and tucking herself up. She turned off the bedside lamp and lay on her back, looking into the dark.

The Reverend Mother said to trust God's infinite wisdom. To have faith.

Certainly, faith was all she had to believe that everything would turn out for the best. Even if at that particular moment, it _did_ seem like an insurmountable problem.

Maria turned onto her side and burrowed into the covers, closing her eyes in prayer.

* * *

When the alarm clock rang the next morning, Maria found herself not wanting to get up for once.

She stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, deep in thought.

Things didn't seem as grim and depressing as the night before, but there was a definite cloud looming over the horizon.

It annoyed her to feel like that, especially when she had so many blessings and so many things to be grateful for. It wasn't her nature to wallow in self-pity. No. She would face her fears head on, as she had always done.

Jumping out of bed, she opened the closet and took out the clothes she would be wearing today. When she was closing it she paused, her eyes straying over to the wonderful blue material she kept there, her most precious treasure. She had pretty much decided how she wanted her new dress to be, except for one thing. The sleeves. She couldn't make up her mind about that. She stared at it for a heartbeat and then, the image of the Captain's jacket wrapped around her shoulders brought with it the bout of inspiration she had been waiting for.

She suddenly found herself smiling. Yes, it was time to do justice to the most beautiful gift she'd ever received. It was time to honour her blessings.

* * *

The morning was spent in the nursery, with Maria designing the pattern for her dress and then cutting it. The girls watched her, mesmerized, while the boys complained that it was very boring. Liesl reminded them that they hadn't complained when Maria had designed their play clothes, which effectively silenced them. Taking pity on the boys, Maria began to teach the children the song for the puppet show. She still was working on the final verses, but the important thing was that they got the hang of the yodel. Surprisingly, they managed a very close approximation in less than an hour.

For their part, the children were in awe that Maria could sing the way she did and sew at the same time. Maria winked at Liesl and said that girls could very well do two or more things at the same time, unlike boys. When Kurt and Friederich fell for the challenge headfirst, Maria burst out laughing and sent them downstairs to practise with the puppets until lunchtime. She was determined that the evening they performed the song, nothing would go wrong. They all would make the Captain proud.

She had almost finished tacking the body of the dress when she noticed that Gretl and Marta were playing with the remnants of the material. She had observed that all the girls were smitten with it, and getting a sudden idea, she encouraged them to go downstairs and join their brothers, practising with the puppets.

Right then, her stomach made a loud noise. They looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"We forgot that sewing makes you hungry," Brigitta giggled.

"Do you want something to eat, Fräulein Maria?" Louisa asked solicitously.

"I shouldn't. Lunchtime's in a little over thirty minutes now." Maria made a grimace. "But I don't want my stomach to precede me to the table either."

"Apple strudel?" Liesl suggested, wriggling her eyebrows.

Maria looked at her and rolled her eyes.

"All right. But just a thin slice." She smiled. "Thank you."

When the girls left, Maria put aside the bodice of her dress and picked up the bigger remnants of the material. Neatly folding and twisting one piece, she made a very decent blossom, that she promptly started to fix with the needle and blue thread.

"Your strudel, Fräulein," a familiar male voice said, startling her.

"Captain!" she exclaimed, snapping up her head.

Georg smiled and put the plate on the table next to her.

"I met my daughters in the kitchen and they informed me of your _situation_," he said with a mischievous grin.

Maria blushed and quickly took a bite of the strudel, praying for her stomach to not betray her in front of him.

Georg chuckled and took a seat across from her.

"I see you finally made a start on it," he observed with evident satisfaction.

Maria nodded eagerly.

"I didn't want to start until I came up with the perfect design. Such a thoughtful gift deserves only the best."

They shared a long look, acknowledging each other's thoughtfulness.

"And may I ask what are you doing now?" Georg was honestly intrigued.

Maria looked down.

"Oh, this," she showed him her work. "I saw the little ones play with the remnants I was discarding, and I got this idea." She picked a safety pin from the sewing box. "I'm making corsages for them."

Georg studied the blossom Maria had created out of a simple remnant of material, and he shook his head in amazement, and not only at her incredible talent.

Maria looked up tentatively. For a moment, it seemed as if there was a question in her eyes, but a moment later, it wasn't there anymore. She just smiled at him and leaned back in her chair comfortably.

Georg tipped his head and watched her sew, as mesmerized by her skill as his children had been. He knew the question that Maria's tact had prevented her from asking. What was he doing up there, instead of spending the afternoon in the company of Baroness Schraeder and his friend Max, as he had been doing the last time she had seen them.

He smiled ruefully, thanking her in his heart for her consideration.

For, how to explain the growing need he had been experiencing? The need to be close to her. Just _close_ to her, because her mere presence was a balm.

The morning papers still had him reeling in anger and helplessness. His worst fears were very close – months away at most - to becoming a reality, and he had no one to... Not even her. He had burdened her with his inner turmoil once; he had no right to upset her and abuse her kindness twice.

His thoughts were spinning out of control, and Elsa and Max's conversation about what was a better place to live, Paris or London, and the discussion they had engaged in, throwing reason after reason endlessly, didn't help much to put his mind at ease.

He loved them both dearly, but sometimes... Sometimes he sourly resented their flippant, superficial attitude. They lived with their backs on the world and its many problems. And his instinct and experience screamed that very soon, there would be no escaping those problems.

At some point, he had excused himself and gone down to the kitchen to have a refreshment. He had met his daughters there, and when he learned that they were going to take a slice of apple strudel to their governess, he felt the urgent need to seek her out. He suddenly longed to bask in the warmth of her eyes, her soothing voice, her gentle caring.

Even sharing the silence with her did him good.

Just then, the safety pin Maria had taken from the sewing box slipped from her fingers. Georg jumped from his chair to pick it up when Maria was bending down to retrieve it. Their fingers touched on the floor, and a shot of electricity sparked through them.

They looked up and their eyes met. Something very emotional, very intense and very profound passed between them.

"Thank you, sir," Maria managed to say shyly.

"You're welcome, Fräulein," he replied with a shaky smile, returning to his chair.

After that, there was a long, slightly awkward silence. One that Georg broke with a question that reflected his personal interest.

"Do you have any idea when the big performance will be?"

Maria laughed softly and made a quick mental estimation.

"Well, let's see, today's Thursday... let's say two days for this... and three days at most for that... Mmmm, what about Monday, Captain?"

Georg's eyes opened wide.

"_Monday_?"

"Is there something wrong?" Maria asked.

"Oh, no! I'm just surprised that it's so shortly, that's all." He smiled widely, obviously happy with the news. "Will the dress be ready by then?"

The abruptly serious, hopeful look in his eyes took Maria's breath away.

"If you want..." she trailed off, unable to look away from that openness.

"It would please me that you wore it for the first time that evening," Georg confessed, his eyes boring into hers.

"Then, I will," Maria said, almost in a whisper.

"Good," he whispered back. His eyes illuminated contentedly.

The grandfather's clock struck half past one.

By silent mutual agreement, Georg rose to his feet while Maria put the three corsages she had completed in the sewing box, and saved two more pieces of the discarded material for the ones that still remained to be made. When everything had been safely put away, she looked up at him.

His gaze was lost. Lost somewhere far away, and definitely not a happy place. Maria recognized that look with a pang of regret and sadness, and her heart just _knew_ what had brought him up there.

"Keep the faith, Captain," she uttered solemnly, getting back her voice somehow.

Instantly, he returned from the ugly place he had retreated into and looked down at her in shock.

"What did you say?" he asked.

Maria reached out to him with everything she was. From the deepest, innermost part of her.

"We can't let our fears prevent us from enjoying life and appreciating our many blessings. You know what is right and that's your greatest strength. Hold that certainty to your heart, and no one and nothing will ever harm you."

Georg stared at her, speechless. He didn't move, he didn't even blink. He just looked at her, trying to not choke on the torrent of emotions surging up inside him.

Embracing the overwhelming display of emotions on that noble face, Maria smiled tenderly at him, and made the attempt to rise.

The hand on her shoulder stopped her.

Maria looked down at it and then back up at him.

His expression hadn't changed. His eyes roamed her features for a second's eternity and then, it was as if something exploded from him in one single, all-encompassing word.

"Maria."

Maria's heart lurched and went out to him like a child running to the open arms of a parent. Responding to him to the last molecule of her being.

No one had ever spoken her name that way before. No one had ever looked at her that way before. There was respect, and deference of the highest kind. And more.

Something pricked behind her eyes, making them sting.

"Here you are, Georg," Elsa's voice suddenly intruded into their private world, making them both flinch and look at the half-open door, just when Elsa was walking in.

Elsa took in the situation at a glance, and the smile disappeared from her lips. She interlaced her fingers and her head described a delicate, interrogative arch; a gesture that seemed second nature to her.

Georg cleared his throat, squared his shoulders and removed his hand from Maria's, with reluctant but smooth grace.

Elsa stared at them through slitted eyes, even if all of her was opening them for the first time.

"It's lunchtime, darling," she addressed Georg with unnecessary emphasis.

"Yes," Georg nodded distractedly, holding the back of Maria's chair.

Maria stood up in a daze and followed Baroness Schraeder out of the nursery, trying to understand what had just happened. It felt as if she had just awakened from a trance, a trance that had left her in a state of total confusion. Her nerves were also strangely on edge, and she had to make use of the handrail while climbing down the stairs, because her knees felt too weak to hold her.

Oddly, she wasn't hungry anymore.

* * *

Georg had been pacing his bedroom like a caged bird for what felt like forever. Restless didn't even begin to describe how he had been feeling the last few hours.

Finally, he stopped in the middle of the room and looked up at the ceiling, as if asking for an answer. He just wished he knew the question.

Giving up, he took off his wine-coloured jacket and put it on the easy chair by the bed. He turned and faced his king-sized bed apprehensively. For the first time in quite some time, it struck him just how big it was. It was a feeling that had accompanied him for months, years even, after Agathe died. He slipped into it at night and felt small and bereft. Like he'd get lost in it.

He had suffered from sleeplessness for weeks after losing his wife. He fell asleep out of sheer physical and emotional exhaustion. Only that had kept him from illness, or madness, or both.

Occasionally, memories raised their poignant heads and still gave him a hard time; but tonight was almost as bad as... It _hurt_ facing his bed. The emptiness of it. He felt as if it would swallow him alive.

He knew this would be another sleepless night, even if it was for a completely different reason.

His conscience, that stubborn little voice that beat relentlessly at his mind's door, wouldn't quieten, demanding him to brave something that couldn't be ignored any longer. Something that confused him as much as it puzzled him.

His growing attraction for Maria.

So far, he had identified those feelings as fondness, affection, tenderness. He admired and respected her. Her innate ability to bring peace and joy to those around her, to soothe his mind and make him laugh. That was her gift, one he had been in desperate need of. She had taught him to not take himself too seriously, to move on, but never turning his back on the past. She had taught him to live openly with his losses, enjoying and valuing life even more for it.

He had thought that he was drawn to that exuberant personality, that source of bubbling enthusiasm, because the last few years of his life had been full of sadness, bitterness and misery. Most of it self-inflicted. He had denied himself - and his children - the opportunity to be happy again, for how could there be any happiness after Agathe?

He had withdrawn into himself so completely that he seriously doubted he would ever feel anything again. For anyone. He had repressed his feelings, his emotions, to the point that he was being cruel and he wasn't even aware of it. Or worse. Maybe deep down he _knew_ he was being cruel, and didn't care.

Elsa had brought something new to his life. Merriment. She had brought him out of his shell and forced a spark back again into his life. She had opened up again the soul that had shut itself off from the world, and the good things it still could offer.

He was so fond of her. Her playful charm had brought him back. They were good for each other.

He had been so certain of what he wanted, of what the next logical step had to be, that this new, overpowering feeling for his children's governess had taken him by surprise. In the blink of an eye, what he had thought was innocent and pure turned out to be something else entirely.

'_Keep the faith.'_

How many times had Agathe said those words to him in all the years they had been married? Those words had come to be as important, as transcendent, as their marriage vows. They were so deeply ingrained into his essence that he knew he would take them with him to the grave.

To suddenly hear Maria say those very words had made the blinders come off all too brutally. At that very moment, he became aware of the truth behind what he had considered a simple need for the company of a like mind, a gentle heart, a good and caring human being.

In a heartbeat, he had awakened to the feelings he had been experiencing lately, and their true meaning. The ever present glow in those warm blue eyes, the sunlight reflected in that golden hair, the softness of those pink, pliant lips...

No. No! He mustn't go that route! She was a nun, or as good as one. What had possessed him, for God's sake?

Georg all but collapsed on his bed, covering his face with his hands.

That confused he was, that mixed up his feelings were that...? Or maybe the feelings she stirred in him were so intense, so strong, that somehow he had mistaken them for something else? Perhaps in his mind he had interpreted his genuine warmth, his profound affection for her as something he had been praying for for so long? For something as perfect and sublime as what he and Agathe had shared?

Poor old fool. Hoping for the impossible. As much as he cared for Elsa, he didn't deceive himself for a second.

You can only touch heaven with your fingertips once in your lifetime. Twice is too much to ask, for anyone.

Georg brought his hands down dejectedly. He looked around his luxurious, exquisitely decorated bedroom, and a self-deprecating sneer appeared on his features. He turned off his bedside lamp and opening the bed, he slipped into it, holding back a shudder at the cold sheets.

He lay on his side, facing the empty side of the bed. Reaching out, he caressed the vast surface in front of him, closing his eyes.

His mind took pity on him and a few minutes later he was sound asleep, his arm stretched out in front of him, palm up.

* * *

In her sleep, Maria turned in her bed with a sigh and reached out her right arm across the mattress, grasping the crumpled sheet under her.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	9. Chapter 9

"What do you think?" Maria said, turning around slowly, showing her just finished dress to the girls.

"Oh, Fräulein!" Liesl smiled dreamily, looking at her up and down. "It's just beautiful!"

"It's perfect!" Brigitta brought her hands up to her chest expressively. "Just how it was _meant_ to be!"

The little ones simply stared up at Maria, their mouths wide open and their eyes shining in wonder.

"You look lovely, Fräulein Maria," Louisa nodded her head approvingly.

Maria met the girl's eyes, nodding back at her. She respected the girl's understated praise and quiet demeanour, knowing that was just the way she was. Maria had come to recognize the warmth in her eyes, what truly lay beneath that sober exterior. In a way, she reminded her of her father more than any of her siblings.

Turning around and reaching into the lower shelf of the sewing box, she produced the five corsages.

"This is for you," she presented her gifts to them. "It's my way to say thank you for keeping me company these past three days, while I was making the dress. And also..." she dropped to one knee in front of Marta and Gretl, "...because I knew you loved the material," she poked Gretl's tummy with her finger teasingly, making her giggle.

Thoroughly surprised, the three older girls quickly – and delightedly – wore the corsages on their dresses. Maria attached them to the little ones' dresses with a smile.

Marta brushed her corsage with reverent fingers, loving the feel of the material.

"Oh, thank you, Fräulein Maria! It's the loveliest present I ever got. And it's not even pink!" she squealed happily and threw her arms round her governess' neck, holding her tight.

Maria laughed out loud and returned her hug.

"I'm glad you like it, sweetheart," she said, kissing her cheek. "Well!" she got up and took a last look at herself in the mirror. "I'll take it off now and put it away."

"When are you going to wear it for the first time?" Liesl asked.

"The day after tomorrow," Maria replied.

"For the performance? That'll be wonderful! Father told us to wear our favourite clothes for the evening."

"He wants us to feel comfortable. He knows we'll be very nervous, singing and working the puppets at the same time," Louisa said, fidgeting a little.

"You don't need to worry," Maria reassured them. "You've been playing with the puppets since you got them, and I'm amazed at the way you mastered the yodelling. We still have this evening and tomorrow to rehearse some more, if you want. The whole point is having a good time!" she squeezed the girl's shoulder.

Louisa thought about it for a moment and met her eyes. She smiled and nodded.

"We'll leave you to change," Liesl opened the door and escorted her sisters out.

* * *

The girls met their brothers downstairs, and together they entered the living room. Elsa, Georg and Max were chatting animatedly and looked up on hearing them enter. Elsa winced at the sight of Louisa wearing her blue corsage on her orangish dress.

"Oh, my goodness!" she exclaimed, appalled. "My dear, did nobody tell you that the combination of blue and orange hurts the eyes? A young girl like you should have at least some basic notions of fashion and style." She got up and approached the girl.

Louisa stiffened and covered the corsage with her hands protectively.

"I _do_ have notions of fashion and style," she replied coldly. "But I'm _not_ taking it off." She shot Elsa an angry look and joined her sisters.

Georg noticed then the corsages his daughters were wearing, and recognizing them immediately, he rose to his feet and walked up behind Louisa.

"I think we can make an exception today," he put his hands on her shoulders soothingly. The girl straightened up proudly.

"It's a gift from Fräulein Maria," Gretl chimed in, showing off hers adorably.

"Oh, that explains it all," Elsa said. Only a well-trained ear would notice the slight sarcasm in her voice. "That little governess truly has a gift for sewing. I wonder if she could help me with this gown that won't..."

"Elsa, Fräulein Maria's not a dressmaker for hire," Georg said kindly, but in a tone of voice that left no room for discussion. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he didn't like Elsa's words. He found her casual use of Maria's abilities demeaning somehow. "I'll have your gown sent to town tomorrow to be fixed, if you want."

A bit taken aback by Georg's earnestness but covering it up nicely, Elsa backed up elegantly.

"I didn't mean to offend Fräulein Maria's sensibility, darling. I was actually paying a compliment to her skills. She's quite gifted."

"She is, indeed," Georg agreed, unable to keep the admiration from his voice.

The children shared knowing looks at the exchange, silently approving their father's attitude, but also wondering why he couldn't see what was plain to see for them. Baroness Schraeder didn't like Fräulein Maria any more than she liked them.

* * *

Once again, Maria walked what had come to be her favourite spot in the vast state, the small area around the gazebo. Something about it drew her irresistibly. The lighting, the ambience, the cozy atmosphere that surrounded the place. She leaned on the trunk of the big oak tree and looked up at it with a sweet, little smile. From there, her gaze wandered all around. Every birch and beech, and beyond them, the moonlight being reflected on the lake.

"This is becoming a habit."

Maria's eyes turned to the source of the voice, and her smile widened at the sight of the Captain walking up to her.

"So it seems." She admired the elegance of his every step, the way his features shone under the white light. Her heart skipped a beat that felt strangely painful.

Forcing herself to move, she met him by the bench. Georg reached out his hand gallantly, inviting her to have a seat. He joined her a moment later.

"So," he said after a minute of peaceful contemplation of their surroundings, "is everything ready for the performance tomorrow?"

"It _is_ ready," Maria nodded. "Except for one small thing," she added after a pause.

"What is it?" Georg asked.

"The children are nervous." Maria met her employer's eyes. "They're afraid of not meeting your expectations. This performance has come to mean a lot to them. They don't want to disappoint you."

"They could never disappoint me!" Georg exclaimed vehemently. "It was never my intention to make them feel like they have to meet any standards of excellence. I just want them to..."

"...enjoy themselves," Maria finished for him. "I told them that, but they're still nervous."

Georg shook his head and looked away.

"Oh, my," he muttered to himself. "Am I really that intimidating?" he wondered out loud a few seconds later. "Still?" he turned his deep blue eyes to Maria, and she could see an old pain surfacing again.

"No! Not at all, sir," Maria hastened to reassure. "It's just that... I think..." she looked away, trying to find the right words; and with those intense, wounded eyes staring into hers she couldn't think properly. "I think it's still difficult for them to reconcile the image of the father who has no qualms about playing cards or football with them, with the dignified, imposing Captain von Trapp, master of the household." She turned her head to him, a keen look in her eyes.

"They're different sides of me, but still me, their father," Georg argued.

"I know that, but they're children," Maria's voice was ever so kind. "And I have to admit that a part of me also finds difficult to reconcile both images in my mind," she smiled deliberately.

Georg's face animated gradually and he ended up smiling too. He took a deep breath.

"What do you suggest?"

"Try to show the playful, light-hearted side of yours more often. Of course, I'm not suggesting rounds of penalties in the hall..."

"Thank God!" Georg exclaimed spontaneously.

The two burst out laughing.

"Just show them that the man who played with them in the mountains can also let himself go at home." Maria's expression softened. "Give them permission to fail. Deep inside they know this, I'm sure. But sometimes, even though you know something, you still need to hear it."

Georg stared at her in wonder, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Your wisdom and insight will never cease to amaze me, Fräulein. You're the best thing that happened to me in a very long time."

Maria felt as if something hit her squarely on the chest at those words. It knocked the air out of her lungs, leaving her breathless.

"Coming here's also been the best thing that happened to me in many years, Captain." The words were out before she could actually think them."I'm so glad the Reverend Mother sent me here. In a way, I feel that this is where I found myself. My purpose in life, by helping others, by helping you," a soft blush coloured her cheeks and she looked down at her lap. "Forgive me if I sound immodest."

Georg thought his heart was going to burst. His eyes took in the adorable bashfulness, the sheepish self-consciousness, the delicate flush of those pink cheeks. His hand reached out of its own accord, but when he saw what he was about to do, he brought it down.

"You don't sound immodest to me. You sound... happy," he said in a somewhat hoarse voice.

Maria's head raised and she searched his face eagerly, as if looking for an answer.

"I think... I _am_ happy."

The soft admission made Georg's heart ache, for he could see in those bright eyes that it wasn't an emotion Maria was used to feeling. He couldn't help but wonder...

"But I can't forget that I belong elsewhere."

The matter-of-factly spoken words felt like a kick in the guts. Georg's features hardened, and he made an effort to conceal the awful feeling of disappointment. Of _betrayal_.

But being honest with himself, he had to wonder if it wasn't a less noble feeling that made him feel like that.

Selfishness.

He was just beginning to realize how much he needed her. Not only for the good things she had brought to their lives, but for the good things he and his children had brought to her life. Maybe he was being arrogant in his assumption, but sometimes, especially when they were close like this, he felt he could read her thoughts and feelings as well as she seemed to read his.

And he felt that she craved human contact. She needed to belong. Not only to a place, not only to an ideal, as high as serving God was.

She needed love.

"Do you miss the Abbey?"

He just _had_ to ask.

Bewilderment appeared on her face at his question. For an instant, that was all he saw. But then, emotion after emotion started to play on her features, so fast and changing that he couldn't tell one from the next. Anguish? Apprehension? Fear? Irony? Resignation? _Shame_? He felt dizzy.

Finally, she tore her gaze away from his and hung her head, biting her lower lip. Studying her beautiful profile, Georg could see that irony won over.

"I will miss this," she answered at last. "But I guess it's something that can't be helped, whatever the situation is." She pulled herself together with a deep breath, and straightened up. Then, she braved his eyes. "Can it?"

Georg gave a small start as the impact of Maria's words registered full force. If he married Elsa, a governess would be redundant. And if he postponed his proposal of marriage, Maria would still return to the Abbey in September.

Whatever happened, nothing would change the fact that Maria's days with them were numbered.

He looked away, struggling to master the storm of emotions wreaking havoc inside him. And what disturbed him the most was knowing that Maria's conflict was also his own.

He wanted to reassure her, he wanted to promise that everything would be all right.

But he couldn't.

"We must have faith," Maria's soft voice brought him out of his dark thoughts. "Everything will turn out for the best, one way or another."

Georg had to admire her ability to put their minds at ease with such simple words.

He just wished he could believe it.

But when he looked into those sweet, gentle eyes, so full of hope, he _believed_.

Somehow.

* * *

"Oh, and dear Father, please make everything just perfect tomorrow. Make it an unforgettable day for the children and the Captain. Make them feel in their hearts how much they love each other, so there are no more doubts, never again." She lowered her gaze to the bed with a soft sigh. "Amen."

Maria crossed herself for the second time in thirty seconds and rose to her feet. She sat down on her bed and after a moment, began to move her hand across the covers absently.

How much she had come to love that place! How much she had come to care about everybody in that house!

And how much she was coming to dread September!

Her eyes dropped closed and she winced.

She couldn't get over the contradiction. She had resented leaving the Abbey and being thrown into the world with nothing more than her few belongings and a hopeful heart. Her admittedly precarious sense of peace had been shattered by the thought of facing the outside world again. A world that had offered nothing more than loss and ugliness, physical and emotional pain. Instead, she had found true peace and contentment like she had never experienced before. And the closest thing to a family she would ever get.

Now, the mere thought of returning hurt more than she could bring herself to bear. And the thought was as painful as it was unsettling.

She had vowed herself, committed herself to God. This pain was a betrayal of her vocation.

For in that family she had found acceptance, understanding, belonging, warmth, human touch.

Love.

Everything she had prayed for since she had been a little girl, everything she had ever wanted, was there every single morning. In those children's open displays of affection. In the way they cared and showed their caring. And in their father's uncanny ability to be there for her. It was as if he could feel instinctively when she was in need of company, of protection, or just needed someone to talk to, even if she didn't know she needed someone to talk to.

She had been so close to speaking her heart out tonight! So close to admitting that coming here had been the best thing that had _ever_ happened to her.

But how to admit that, knowing that September was... well, weeks away?

She brought up her hand and slid her fingers through her hair. She had never felt so torn. So helpless.

So alone.

Even now.

But she should be happy! She had admitted mere minutes ago that she _was_ happy!

She was happy when she was with him. When she was with the children.

That was why she had to believe that when September came, everything would be the way it was meant to be.

The Captain would have a new wife. A good, loving woman, who would be everything such a complex mind and such a gentle, impassioned heart needed to be whole. His peace and solace in an uncertain world, and the calm centre in the storm of his tumultous thoughts.

The children would have a new mother. A kind, sensitive, understanding woman who would see and respect the special qualities of every personality, and honour their deep bond as siblings.

Someone who would realize that Captain von Trapp and his children came in one package, and would complete the circle with all of them safe inside.

She had to believe that Baroness Schraeder was that person. She had to open her eyes and love them. Love them all.

For they were so easy to love!

She would try her hardest to leave a close family behind when she returned to the Abbey. She had to prove to herself that she could carry out the duty she had been entrusted with. Only then she would be worthy of taking her vows. Of being a nun.

With that firm resolution in mind and brushing her own insecurities aside, Maria opened her bed and slipped inside.

TO BE CONCLUDED...


	10. Chapter 10

The morning after dawned sunny and bright, as it seemed to have become a custom that summer.

With a light heart, Maria jumped out of bed, ready to do her best for the day to be one that Captain von Trapp and his children would remember for a very long time.

The children were a bundle of nerves, and it took Maria a while to calm them down enough to present themselves in front of their father.

They came down the stairs, with Maria holding the little ones' hands in her own, and when they were about to enter the dining room, the piercing sound of a whistle stopped them in their tracks. Maria winced and hunched her shoulders protectively against the sound.

Acting on sheer instinct, the children stood at attention. Maria opened her eyes and had to do a double take when she saw her employer standing in the doorway, whistle in hand, staring at them sternly.

"Straight line!" he called.

Without thinking, the children obeyed, with Liesl at the head of the line.

"Good," Georg praised, inspecting their clothes much in the same way he had done in the past.

Maria was too stunned to react. She simply stared at him, open-mouthed, trying to understand what it was all about. For once, she couldn't see anything in his eyes that gave away what he was up to.

When he seemed satisfied with his examination, Georg walked up to his oldest child.

"Liesl."

"Yes, Father?" Liesl asked, a hint of uneasiness tinging her voice.

"Allow me."

The young woman's eyebrows arched interrogatively.

Georg reached back without looking.

It was then that Maria became aware of Gertrude's presence just inside the dining room, as she handed something to Georg. She hardly had time to make out the bouquet of flowers Georg presented his daughter, a sweet smile softening his features into the gentlest expression of naked, unadulterated love.

Liesl stared down at the lovely flowers in her hands, and then looked up at her father uncomprehendingly.

Georg reached out with the most loving smile, and held the back of her head in his hand. Bending down, he bestowed a soft kiss on her forehead.

Liesl's eyes dropped closed at the touch of her father's lips, and Maria could see her biting her lips for an instant, to hold back the surge of sudden emotion.

When Georg let go, father and daughter looked deep into each other's eyes, and Maria just had to look away. When she risked a glance again, Liesl was entering the dining room and stopping to look back at her siblings.

It was Friedrich's turn. Georg took a medium-sized, wooden briefcase from Gertrude's hands, and gave it to the boy.

Friedrich looked down at it, and immediately recognizing the carving kit he had been secretly dying for, he beamed up at his father. Georg smiled back and squeezed his son's shoulder, nodding to him proudly.

Louisa received another lovely bouquet of flowers and a soft kiss on her forehead. The girl reached up and held her father's wrist, eyes closed, fighting back tears before opening them again.

Kurt was given a briefcase similar to Friedrich's, only his was a watercolour kit. The boy thanked his father enthusiastically. Georg laughed and mussed his son's hair fondly.

Brigitta received a bouquet of small white and pink carnations, her favourite flower. The girl smiled happily and embraced her father's waist, burying her face in his chest. Georg returned her hug tenfold and kissed the top of her head, nuzzling it for a moment.

Then, dropping to one knee, he gave Marta the cutest little bouquet, made of a myriad different types of flowers, all pink. The little girl was rendered speechless. She couldn't look away from that incredibly thoughtful gift. Finally, she looked up into her father's eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck impulsively, squealing with joy. Georg cupped her head in his hand and kissed her temple, closing his eyes with a sigh.

Gretl was bouncing up and down when her turn came, desperate to get her present. With a low chuckle and a flourish, Georg gave her a little bouquet, consisting on only daisies, but of every possible colour. White, yellow, pink, even light blue. Gretl blinked in sheer astonishment and then embraced her father, raining a shower of kisses on his cheek.

Georg laughed softly and buried his fingers in the long blonde hair, caressing it reverently.

Maria was mesmerized by the image before her. She bit her lower lip and shook her head, moved beyond words. Just when she thought she had caught a glimpse of the most hidden depths of that man's soul, he did something that showed that she was only scratching the surface of everything Captain von Trapp was, thought and felt. She tilted her head, getting lost in the beauty of the moment, imprinting it into her memory forever.

"Father," Friedrich's voice intruded softly, full of wonder.

Georg moved back, holding Gretl at arm's length, and looked up at his son.

"Why... all this?" the boy asked, making a sweeping movement with his arm.

Georg shrugged, somewhat self-deprecatingly.

"I'm just showing my appreciation for your performance this evening."

Friedrich frowned in confusion.

"But we haven't performed yet," he argued.

Georg smiled widely.

"Precisely," he said, rising to his feet.

The children looked at each other, and Maria could _feel_ the tension in them easing off. She shook her head again and looked down. She didn't think possible to admire anyone more, but he kept proving her wrong time after time.

"Fräulein, I have something for you too."

Amazed beyond belief that he had thought of her too, Maria looked up at him.

"Oh," she said, unable to think of anything more articulate.

Georg reached into his pocket and held out his whistle to her.

"Get rid of this for me, will you?" he asked, meeting her eyes with an intensity that left her breathless.

It was all Maria could do to reach out and took the whistle from his fingers. A sweet tingle spread up her arm when her fingertips brushed his.

"It'll be my pleasure, sir," she replied.

He smiled.

"Father, can we go up to our rooms and put our gifts away?" Kurt asked, holding his briefcase to him like the most precious treasure.

"Of course. Go ahead," Georg nodded.

The children hurried upstairs letting out happy little cries and exclamations of joy, that died down as they disappeared from sight.

Maria looked down from the second floor and met her employer's eyes, unable, and unwilling, to hide her admiration and respect.

"You did it, Captain. You made their fears go away," she grinned at him.

"It was thanks to _you_ that I did it," Georg took one step closer to her. "You have the gift of reaching into the innermost depths of a person's soul, Fräulein. And what amazes me the most is how you can point out someone's shortcomings without making them feel inadequate, or flawed. Even if they are."

"You're not flawed, sir," Maria choked out through the lump in her throat, searching his gaze earnestly.

"Oh, I am. I have many shortcomings, there's no shame in admitting it. But with your help, I'm learning." Georg bent a little bit closer. "Thank you," he uttered, in the warmest voice.

Maria tried to say something, but she couldn't. When they were standing so close to each other, she simply stopped thinking. She could only feel. Somehow, she managed to nod, acknowledging the honour she had been paid. Then, she tore her gaze away from him and returned Gertrude's good morning greeting as she walked past them. Her eyes were drawn to the whistle in her hand, and she clasped it tighter, turning her eyes to him again.

"You know?" she said, giving him a bright, shining smile. "Without a doubt, I received the best present of all," she showed him the whistle that was now hers proudly.

The soft smile disappeared from Georg's lips and he contemplated her with a seriousness that felt like a living, breathing thing. He leaned infinitesimally closer.

Maria felt as if he was taking all her personal space, her entire world, but far from being overwhelmed by it, she felt unthinkably at peace.

At the same time, a shy tremor began to rise up from some previously unknown, untouched part of her. A part that responded to him like a flower to the sunlight. A part of her that was his. Only his.

"Good morning, darling."

Thrown out of the blissful communion they had reached, Maria and Georg shuddered inwardly and turned their heads in unison, taking a calming breath as they did.

"Good morning," they answered back, together.

"Did you sleep well, Elsa?" Georg asked, as his guest joined him.

Grinding her teeth for a moment but forcing herself to maintain a nonchalant expression on her face, Elsa took the proffered arm, nodding diplomatically at Maria in passing.

"Wonderfully, Georg," she replied. "Must be the air coming down from the mountains. It's so relaxing!"

"It is," Georg nodded, escorting her inside the dining room.

"Good morning, Herr Detweiler," Maria greeted the ever-smiling impresario, who followed them a few metres behind.

"Good morning, Fräulein," Max greeted her back merrily, and walking into the dining room with her. "Isn't that Georg's whistle?" he suddenly asked, perplexed to find it in Maria's hand.

"Yes, it is," Maria nodded, putting it safely away in her skirt's pocket. When she reached her seat, she looked up at her employer, who stood directly in front of her at the other end of the table, holding Elsa's chair. "Captain, even after all this time, I'm curious. I never got to hear my whole signal."

Georg looked at her, startled. When he met her teasing, warm eyes, he spluttered and burst out laughing. Incredibly, a soft blush coloured his cheeks.

Maria smiled at him, somewhat dreamily, wondering why she felt as if she had a million butterflies fluttering in her stomach, just looking at him.

* * *

After breakfast, Maria took the children outside, and wanting to boost their confidence, she made them practise scales and yodel, in order to warm up their voices. Happy, carefree singing followed and before they knew, it was lunchtime.

In the early evening, Franz got the stepladder from the basement and brought it to the ballroom, placing it by the left side of the puppet show, so all the puppeteers could climb up to their positions on the catwalk in the upper part of it.

It had been agreed that only Maria and the oldest children would work the puppets. It would be too dangerous for the little ones to be up there with their siblings, and besides, there was no room for everybody. They were going to be too crammed up as it was.

That by no means meant that Marta and Gretl would only contribute their voices to the performance. They would also be busy raising and lowering the curtains, and getting some of the puppets on and off the stage when necessary. Their governess had made certain that everybody would share the responsibility, that no one would feel left out.

* * *

Maria took a last look at herself in the mirror. For some reason, she felt a bit uncertain. Her new dress was indeed lovely, but it didn't seem good enough now.

Suddenly, she smiled to herself, shaking her head. Just like the children, she only wanted to please the Captain. It was extraordinary how important this simple performance had come to be for everybody. It had come to embody the journey all of them had made, together.

Somehow, that family brought out the best in her. They had given her peace, and focus. She didn't feel like a black sheep or a disruptive troublemaker anymore. With her responsibilities at the household and their influence, she had tamed those annoying aspects of her personality; or rather, she had found a way to use them in a constructive manner.

She might have helped them to find each other again, but in no way that help had been one-sided. Quite the contrary. She felt she had received just as much from them, if not more.

That was why she also needed for this performance to be successful. She also had something to prove. To herself most of all.

"Dear Father. Please, help me," she muttered to herself, taking a deep breath and walking out of her room.

The children were waiting for her outside. They were clearly nervous, but the edge to their nervousness that had been present before was completely gone now.

Quickly forgetting about herself and focusing only on the children, she took the little ones' hands in her own.

"Fräulein Maria," Friedrich said when they were halfway downstairs.

"Yes?"

"You look beautiful."

Maria stopped and looked back at the boy and at his younger brother, realizing that they hadn't seen her in that dress before. Kurt was nodding emphatically at Friedrich's compliment, a cute smile on his face.

"Thank you. That's very kind of you," she smiled back at them, a part of her relaxing unconsciously. "And you all look wonderful in your favourite clothes. They really become you."

The children's faces lit up at her honest praise, and gathered ever closer round their governess.

They made it all the way downstairs, chatting away excitedly as they headed for the dining room.

Georg, Elsa and Max were already inside, but on hearing them coming, Georg rose from his chair and went to meet them just outside.

When his eyes settled on Maria, Georg's expression froze. But then, a few moments later, a smile of sheer delight made his features glow.

Maria walked up to him, hardly daring to meet his eyes.

"Did I do it justice, Captain?" she asked hopefully.

For an instant, there was no reply. Maria braved his gaze, holding her breath.

Georg's smile had never conveyed more fervour as he looked down at her.

"No, Fräulein," he said in the lowest tone, "it did justice _to you_."

Time stood still for Maria at the sound of his voice. She got lost somewhere she never wanted to leave. A warm, cozy place, surrounded by his powerful presence that encompassed her whole. And she was safe there. So safe!

"My, what a sweet little dress! You look lovely, my dear."

Maria's heart started pounding painfully at the interruption. It felt as if she had been torn away from her mother's womb. The only place where no harm could possibly come to her. She took a deep breath to pull herself together, and put a calm smile on her face.

"Thank you, Baroness," she said quietly.

"You keep surprising me, darling," Elsa said then conversationally, holding on to Georg's arm. "You know how to choose the material that will make a woman look ravishing."

"I always thought it was the other way round," Georg replied, turning his head to Maria, who was helping Gretl to sit on her chair, mindful that the skirt of her favourite dress didn't get any wrinkles.

Maria looked up and met his eyes, smiling at him soulfully.

* * *

Dinner passed in an atmosphere of barely concealed excitement. Finally, when the dessert plates were empty, Georg took pity on his children and gave them permission to leave and get everything ready for the performance.

With a collective shriek of joy, the children jumped from their chairs and left the dining room. Maria followed them at a more sedate pace, willing herself to maintain a cool façade.

Franz was getting the puppets out of their boxes, and handing them to Friedrich and Louisa, who were already up the catwalk. Maria chided them for being so reckless, and climbed up the stepladder hurriedly, followed by Liesl, Kurt and Brigitta. Marta and Gretl assumed their positions behind the puppet show, and began to practise with the curtains and move the puppets they were in charge of back and forth.

It felt _really_ crammed up there, more so than during rehearsals, or so it felt to Maria. Forcing herself to shrug it off, she started pulling the strings of the young goatherd, warming up the suddenly stiff articulations of her wrists and fingers. Liesl, Friedrich, Kurt and Brigitta started working their own puppets too, elbowing each other eagerly. Louisa stepped down the ladder and took hold of her own puppet, one of the climbers.

"Franz's bringing the chairs now," she informed those on the catwalk who couldn't see, while making her puppet go cross-eyed.

Maria felt her stomach churn. She made a gurgling noise from deep in her throat, that earned a funny look from Liesl. She gave the girl a tremulous smile and continued moving her puppet around, until the knots in her arms loosened... a little.

"They're here!" Gretl announced, whooshing back to her post behind the puppet show.

Maria closed her eyes, uttering a short prayer for help.

"Are you ready?" she asked everybody.

The children nodded at her, their eyes sparkling in the dim light.

Drawing strength from their energy, Maria closed her eyes again, letting out all the air in her lungs in a slow and steady breath.

All of a sudden, she felt eyes on her. Knowing instinctively to whom those eyes belonged, she plucked up her courage for a second before opening her own.

The Captain was sneaking a peek inside, sporting an impish, playful smile. When their eyes met, his smile became one of trust and support that still held a twinkle of humour.

That childish prank was all Maria needed for his message to sink in. She didn't have anything to prove. She never had. She only had to _let go and enjoy herself_.

Shaking her head, she looked down at her puppet and then at him again. Her eyes softened, full of gratitude, and her lips mouthed two small, heartfelt words.

"Thank you."

He shook his head back at her. Then, he brusquely popped out of sight... only to pop in again an instant later.

Unable to help herself, Maria laughed out loud, alerting the children to their father's foul play.

"Father! What are you doing?" Brigitta asked, in shock.

"You shouldn't peek!" Louisa reprimanded. "This is supposed to be a surprise!"

Wincing exaggeratedly, Georg covered his eyes with his hand and tiptoed out of sight, silencing the other two members of the audience with a finger to his lips.

Maria couldn't understand the effect that man had on her. She had stopped wondering about it, and she simply revelled in the way that one look from his beautiful eyes calmed her every fear, and made her feel so good about herself, about who she was and what she had to give.

She felt light as a feather, giddy, euphoric. Even more so when she heard the applause that signalled their audience's readiness.

Softly clearing her throat and making sure that she was holding her puppet correctly, she met the children's eyes one by one, receiving equally euphoric looks. She nodded heartily and looked down.

"Marta!"

The little girl looked up at her governess, already holding the cords that opened and closed the main curtain in her hands.

One last deep intake of breath and...

"Curtain!"

THE END.


End file.
